#the fact that my birthday is getting close and every year i hate it a little more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roosterforme · 8 months

Text

Alone With All Your Letters | Hangman x Reader

Summary: You had been with Jake for so long, he could barely remember himself without you. But he was ready for more, and he was tired of waiting for you to catch up to him. With a few ugly words, he broke your heart. And with one handwritten letter, you brought him to his knees.

Warnings: Angst, smut, age gap, fluff, talk of pregnancy, 18+

Length: 3700

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

You had been with Jake for a long time. Almost seven years to be exact. And while he loved you and knew he wanted to be with you, sometimes it was hard for him to come to terms with the fact that you and he were still at slightly different places in your lives.

He'd met you when you were still in college. College. And he had been... a bit removed from school by that point. He had been new to Top Gun and San Diego when you slammed into his life. You were out celebrating your twenty first birthday at the same bar where he was celebrating his thirty third. You were clearly mortified when you ruined his shoes with a pitcher of spilled beer. But when he laughed, you looked so relieved, he let you buy him a drink.

And then you let him buy you several. And then you let him get you an Uber. And then he joined you in the Uber and spent the rest of the weekend at your apartment.

"Jake?" you asked, holding up two dresses next to your shared closet in his house. "Which one for brunch?"

They were both short and would show off your legs. Jake would get looks from other guys his age when he kissed your neck or wrapped his arm around your waist. He would get the occasional, "Nice going, bro." Or even the, "Daaamn."

You were young. You were hot. But Jake would much rather spend the day at home relaxing with you instead of heading out to a boozy brunch with your friends. Especially the day before an eight week deployment.

"The blue one, Honey," he told you with a soft smile. As he watched you get changed, he stood and tried to choose a shirt for himself. But he was tired of helping you pick out outfits and trying to coordinate how his shirts looked with your dresses. It didn't matter. It was exhausting.

And that was the trade-off for being in love with someone twelve years younger. He was in love with a woman who loved him back with every fiber of her being, but he was also in love with a woman who put off the things he wanted to do. He no longer wanted rowdy beach vacations and dancing all night in clubs. He wanted to go to Europe and visit galleries. He no longer wanted to go out to eat every night. He wanted to stay in with you and make a meal together.

He always felt the clash. Always felt like he was conceding with what he wanted for what you wanted. And it had never been more obvious than when he asked you a few years ago if you ever wanted to have kids.

"Sure, Jake," you had told him, kissing his cheek. "I love kids. But not yet. In another year or two."

He hated bringing it up, he really did. But your answer was always the same. In another year or two. But it had been three years, going on four. And nothing you were doing was telling him you were getting close to that point yet.

But he got dressed for this brunch that he didn't want to go to. And he held the door and talked to your friends and drank a mimosa. But he just wanted to be at home, enjoying the last day before he shipped out on an aircraft carrier.

Later that night, Jake watched you change into some lacy, light pink lingerie that looked delicious on you. And then you made a big production of avoiding his grasp with a laugh.

"Wait a second," you told him, pushing him playfully away. "I have to put something in your duffle bag." He unbuttoned his shirt as you rooted around in your nightstand drawer and pulled out a stack of envelopes just like you always did. "Make sure you read them in order," you whispered, bending to tuck them into his bag.

"I always do, Honey. Now come here."

You treated him to your mouth and your hands and your pussy, letting him have whatever he asked for. And he fell asleep wrapped around your body, listening to you say, "I love you, Jake. I'll miss you so much."

But the next morning, he felt anxious in that way where he knew he needed to say something again. He'd be arriving back in port just before his fortieth birthday. He knew he was getting older. He knew what he wanted. But if there was never going to be a compromise with the timeline, then he needed to be the one to make the decision for both of you.

As you stood before him on the dock, tears in your eyes and your arms around his neck, he couldn't hold the words back. "Honey. I love you, but... I don't know if this is working for me anymore."

He watched your face fall and your lips part into a look of shock. Your voice was only a desperate whisper. "Jake?"

This was miserable, but he had to do it. He swallowed his guilt and said, "I don't know what to do here. I don't know if you're even happy with where we are, but I'm struggling. I'm about to be forty. I'm tired of going out all the time. I'm tired of waiting another year and another year and another year to get serious about kids. I love you, and I want to do that with you, but I can't force you. So if we aren't on the same page any longer, then maybe we need to end things."

Your lips were quivering, and your eyes were welling up with even more tears as you let your arms fall away from his body. You stepped backwards, putting some distance between the two of you. Your gaze started to change from one of sadness to one of anger. And Jake regretted it. He regretted everything he just said, but it was too late to take it back. So he stood there in it and let the disgusting feeling of remorse wash over him.

"Honey-"

But his name was being called now, and you stepped away again when he reached for you. "Goodbye, Jake," you whispered, your voice rough with unshed tears as you swiped at your eyes.

He turned and walked toward the long, daunting ramp that would take him to his deployment and away from you. Perhaps forever. Every time he turned back to look at you, there were more tears in your eyes, but you hadn't moved an inch. When he made his way onto the carrier deck, he dropped his bag and pulled out his phone.

Jake called you over and over, watching you standing on the dock as you ignored his calls before tucking your phone away. He called your name, screamed it over the noise from the crowd of people seeing their loved ones off. He hollered until his voice was hoarse. And then he got his phone out again, waiting with shaking hands until he got your voicemail.

He was looking right at you, and you were looking back at him as he said, "Honey, please. I'm so sorry. Please. I didn't mean any of it. I love you. I need you. I need you to be there when I get home. Please! Fuck! I'm sorry. Please stop ignoring my calls! I love you."

With shaking hands, he ended the call and redialed your number. Once again he watched you ignore the call, so he left you voicemail after voicemail as the aircraft carrier pulled away from the dock. He apologized as many ways as he could until your inbox was full and you were just a speck in the distance.

Jake collected himself off of the deck and made his way to his tiny bunk where he sank down onto the unmade bed and cried. What was he thinking? If he had to choose between a life with you or one without you, he wanted to choose you. He fucked up, and now there was no way you were going to listen to him. There was no way you'd be there when he got home.

He just broke your heart and then his own with a handful of idiotic sentences that he said in place of having an actual conversation with you. If he ever accused you of being less mature than he was, well, he was wrong about that, too. This had to be the dumbest thing he had ever done.

"Fuck," he groaned as he started unpacking his bag. But your letters to him were right there, and he thought he was going to throw up as he untied the stack and took the top envelope in his hands.

That would be your revenge in a way. He would spend his deployment opening all of your sweet notes to him. You always did this, and he always loved reading them. But now he'd let them hurt. He would let himself feel pain.

But he was in no way prepared for what he read in that first letter.

Jake,

I miss you already! I'm probably still on the dock waving and crying, watching you sail away. Eight weeks isn't forever, but I know every day is going to feel impossible without you. And I know you'll feel the same way. So let me send you off with a little bit of hope and a promise. When I told you I had a last minute appointment on Wednesday, I had my IUD removed. And I didn't get another one in its place. I'm ready. When you get back in two months, let's go for it. Let's make you a Daddy.

All my love

He folded the note back up as neatly as you had, and then he tucked it back inside the envelope and sprawled across the bed with his forearm over his eyes. And he didn't move for a long time.

---------------------

Jake was basically useless out of the cockpit. He flew his missions, and completed his training exercises, but he had to force himself to eat and go to the gym. There was no outside communication allowed this time around, so he had no way to talk to you, not that you would have answered your phone for him.

To make things worse, he'd been rationing your letters to him, spreading out the pain, prolonging the agony. Each one was sweeter than the last, and each one made him ache. But he read that first letter every night before he went to sleep. Because, for the briefest point in time, he'd had everything he wanted. And now he had, well, essentially nothing. And because he had nobody to go home to, the weeks were flying by. He was nearing the end now. Nearing his fortieth birthday, and wishing he could just stay for another deployment.

Silently, he packed his bag that final morning, but he held onto your letters, wanting to feel their weight in his hand. After nearly seven years of having you standing on the dock waiting for him to arrive home, he was going to have to call himself a cab. He'd go home and process things the best he could without you, but first he would stand there and watch everyone else fall into the arms of their loved ones.

Jake tossed his duffle bag over his shoulder and wound his way down the ramp. He took a deep breath as his boots hit California soil, and he walked slowly into the crowd of people on the dock. The evening sun was still bright and hot as he was jostled around by all of the bodies. Choruses of 'I missed you!' and 'I love you so much!' rang out around him. When he closed his eyes, he could practically hear your voice, that's how well he remembered every single time you collected him here, took him home, and made love to him.

But when he opened his eyes, he gasped. You were standing off toward the back of the crowd, face expressionless as the setting sun illuminated your features and your yellow sundress. The color of honey. Why were you here? To have your chance at telling him off? Or perhaps...

"Honey?" he called out, suddenly shoving his way through the crowd. "Honey!" He rushed to you as quickly as he could, but you didn't move an inch. The only thing that changed was your expression, which was turning more apprehensive as he closed in.

"Jake," you whispered when he was right in front of you. He hated the look you were giving him. There was an awful sensation in the pit of his stomach, a mix of wanting to reach out to hold you, but terrified of the rejection you were probably about to rightfully hit him with.

"Honey. I fucked up."

You nodded, and the softest smile found its way to your lips. "You really did, Jake."

He dropped his bag to the ground. "Even if you're only here to slap me in the face, will you listen to me for a minute first?" When you nodded, he said, "I was frustrated. I'm getting older. I'm getting old for my career. I'm getting old to have a kid. And I feel at times like I'm too old for you to be satisfied with me."

"Jake, that's not true," you insisted, eyes bright with tears. When he ran his fingers along your jaw you didn't stop him.

"Whether it's true or not, it's in my head. And I can't get it out," he whispered. "But I love you. I want to be with you. As soon as I told you otherwise, I regretted every single word, Honey. I didn't have to read any of your letters to know I had just made the worst mistake of my life. I didn't even make it all the way onto the carrier before I was calling you."

"I know," you whispered as one stray tear slid down your cheek. "I know you didn't read the note before you called me. I was watching you the whole time."

Jake brushed the tear away, fighting the urge to press his lips to that spot. "Then why didn't you answer me?" he asked softly.

"Because I was mad. I'm still kind of mad at you. Either I'm enough, or I'm not. What if I can't even have kids? You were just going to leave me?"

"No," he swore, shaking his head. "The fact that you said you were willing to try with me is more than enough. Okay? You're more than enough, Honey. I love you."

You swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath. "I wasn't lying when I told you that I'd catch up to where you were someday. I never lied to you, Jake. So next time don't try to rush me into something, okay?"

He reached for your hand. "Next time?"

You nodded. "Yeah. Don't fuck up again."

"Does that mean you'll stay with me?" he asked, desperation in his voice as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Yes."

Jake pulled you against him, his lips meeting your forehead as he squeezed you. He let himself cry out all of the pain and hopelessness he had contained the best he could for the past eight weeks as you held him.

-------------------------

Today was his birthday. Forty. Jake was pretty sure he was on the verge of needing reading glasses, and sometimes his shoulder hurt when he got out of bed if he slept funny. But last night he slept funny because you were wrapped around him in bed. So it was worth it.

Things had been a little shaky after you picked him up at the end of his deployment a week ago. He'd begged you to stay with him in his house and work through things. You'd been living with him for so long, he honestly couldn't imagine his place without you anymore. You were having open conversations together, and Jake was finally starting to feel like things were getting back to normal.

But he hadn't asked you once about your IUD, thinking maybe you'd changed your mind when he was deployed, after he word vomited all of his insecurities on you. No, he wasn't going to mention anything about birth control until you brought it up. So quite frankly, he wasn't quite sure if you and he had had sex with or without birth control last night.

Jake went through his day, hoping that when he got home from work, you'd be there. And that maybe today would be the day you'd make it clear what you wanted now.

"Honey?" he called out after he unlocked his front door.

"I'm in the bedroom, birthday boy!"

Jake smiled and headed toward your voice, stopping short in the doorway. You were perched on the edge of his desk wearing that light pink lingerie he loved so much. There was a cupcake on a plate next to you, and as he approached, he watched you strike a match and light the candle. Then you pursed your pretty lips to blow out the match, and Jake was right there. He kissed you, raking his fingers along your soft skin, so thankful you were with him.

"Happy birthday," you managed between kisses.

"You look like my present, wrapped up all pretty."

Your soft laughter filled him up. "I actually got you a watch, but sure, I can be your present." You hopped down from the desk and ran your hands along the front of his uniform before taking his hand. As you led him toward the bed, you looked back at him, your eyes unguarded. "I'm still figuring out my cycles now," you muttered, shrugging nervously, "but I'm pretty sure I'm ovulating today."

"Honey," Jake groaned. "Say it. Please, say it."

But instead of saying anything, you crawled across the bed, letting him see your gorgeous ass. And when you eased yourself down onto your back and spread your legs wide, you asked him, "Don't you want to fuck a baby into me?"

Jake's eyes went wide as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside along with his undershirt. Then he eased himself down onto the bed, grabbing the backs of your thighs and kissing your core through the lace.

"Say it," he begged, watching you bite your lip and press your head back into the bedding. "Honey."

"I'm ready, Jake. I'm ready to make you a daddy."

With those words, Jake drew your legs back together and gently removed your underwear, letting the lace glide along your soft skin. And when he eased your legs apart again, he groaned. "You're perfect. I can't get enough." He pressed his lips and nose to your pussy, inhaling your sweet scent as he stroked your hips and belly with both hands.

He could already picture you round and pregnant. He'd been imagining how beautiful you would be as a mom for years and years. When he kissed your belly button, you pushed your fingers through his hair. There was nobody else he'd ever wanted to do this with.

When he met your eyes, there was a smile playing on your lips as you whispered, "Jake, we're going to have to do this all the time now. You know that, right?"

He groaned softly as he unclasped your bra and let his lips settle on your tits. "Yeah, I know," he told you, running his nose along the undersides of your breasts. "I'll fuck you full of my cum, nice and deep. Keep you full for as long as it takes."

"Oh, fuck," you gasped as he sucked on your nipples and unzipped his uniform pants. And then he was thrusting inside you, and the little sounds you made were the filthiest things he'd ever heard. He went harder, deeper, thinking about how he'd make sure you always had his cum inside you. How you'd smell like him. How he'd be on you all the time.

"You're gonna look perfect carrying my child," he whispered, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. "Everyone will know what I did to you. Everyone will know how bad I wanted it."

The way you responded to him was too much. Your back was arched, and he could feel you tightening around him. "Everyone will know," you echoed in a moan. "They'll know you fuck me so good, Jake."

His forehead came to rest against yours as he panted. "You ready?" he grunted. "I'll fill you up right now."

"Yes," you whispered, taking his fingers and guiding them to your clit. With a few slow circles, he had you whining and squirming as you started to climax.

"Stay still, Honey," he whispered, his voice rough now. "Keep it all inside."

You were keening from his words and your orgasm as Jake filled you with his cum. "Fuck," you whined, and it was so loud and needy, he rammed his cock deep and held you to him while he pulsed inside you.

"Don't move, don't move," he whispered, kissing and licking your tits as your fingers stroked through his hair. "Don't waste it."

He was in love with you and the feel of your body. You wanted what he wanted. He would make it his mission to get you pregnant.

"God, Jake." Your voice was raw and harsh as you said, "I'm getting your creampies around the clock now, aren't I?"

He lifted your hips gently off the bed and watched as he slowly withdrew himself from your pretty pussy as you whined softly. And when his cum started to dribble out of you, he gently fucked you with two fingers, pushing it deeper. "Around the clock," he confirmed. "Now let me eat my birthday cupcake and then I'll fill you up again."

You ended up sitting naked on Jake's lap and laughing while you had to pick the melted wax off of the icing. Then you fed him the cupcake, sneaking a bite for yourself as his cum oozed out of you and onto his khaki pants. He'd fuck you full again later. He'd keep doing it as long as it took.

"Happy birthday, Daddy," you whispered.

----------------------

I wrote Jake again? It's becoming a habit now. Thanks for reading this one! And thanks for @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@rosesreekofoccasion

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@child-of-thedevil

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@tallyovie

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@double-j

@bradshawsbitch

@sugarcoated-lame

@katiebby04

@anotherr-fine-mess

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@strrywmen

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

2K notes · View notes

sughuru · 5 months

Text

seventh of december

- gojo satoru x reader

Satoru was never one to celebrate his birthday. Matter of fact, he actually hated it. Except on three occassions.

genres/warnings: fluff, birthday fic, kinda rushed tbh, not proofread

notes: happy birthday gojo, i know you're alive pls come back :((( anyways enjoy, i kinda rushed this bc i still have some school stuff to do so i hope you guys understand! as always, english isn't my first language so pls excuse my grammatical and spelling errors

home | masterlist

Not merely Satoru's birthday, and he despised that. He loathed how his powers and name were incessantly brought up, dominating every conversation, overshadowing his personality and achievements.

All his life, he hated his birthday except on three occasions.

The first birthday he ever genuinely enjoyed was celebrated with his high school friends, Suguru and Shoko.

Satoru checked his flip phone and noticed the endless SMS notifications from relatives to clan members he doesn’t even know the face of. He's well aware that these messages are only a formality, driven by respect and perhaps a tinge of fear. Deep down, he understands that some clan members harbor hatred at the fact that his parents were the ones to give birth to the next Limitless and Six Eyes user. He knows they all secretly pray for his downfall. Aside from that, if it wasn’t out of respect or fear, perhaps they wanted or needed something from him.

"Satoru," Suguru called to his friend, who was lost in thought on the sports court. Satoru looked up and acknowledged Suguru with a nod. In response, Suguru mouthed, "Come here," while waving him over.

The white-haired male walked towards Suguru, “hah? What’s this all about?”

Suguru brushed off his friend and kept walking, ignoring Satoru's attempts to get his attention. This annoyed Satoru even more. "Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me!" Satoru whined in the most grating voice imaginable, prompting even Suguru to question why he was friends with him.

Suguru shot a glare at Satoru, “maybe if you just shut up and follow me, we’ll get there sooner.”

"Why can't you tell me now? Where are we going? Wow, are you here to take me somewhere quiet and kill me there?" Satoru quipped with a sarcastic tone.

"If you don't stop asking questions, yeah," Suguru replied dryly. Satoru rolled his eyes but continued to follow his friend.

Before long, they arrived at their classroom. Suguru opened the door to reveal a sight that surprised Satoru— all their friends were inside wearing party hats. Even Nanami and Ijichi were there.

"Gojo!" Shoko waved excitedly at the tall male. Suguru grinned, saying, "Happy birthday, Satoru," as he patted his friend on the back. He then led Satoru into the room to join the celebration with their friends.

It was a simple birthday, really. Celebrated among friends and closed ones. Nevertheless, Satoru regarded it as one of his favorite birthday memories.

The following year, Suguru left, and once again, he hated his birthday. Shoko was there to celebrate with him but it wasn’t the same without Suguru. After all, the trio did everything together.

“Happy birthday.” Shoko hands him a bag of kikufuku picked up from a store down the street. Before he could thank her, she was already off to treat some first year who got injured on a mission.

Oh right, they’re third graders now. The final year and final step to being a true Jujutsu Sorcerer.

After Suguru left, Satoru met with two kids and took them in. Megumi and Tsumiki, aged five and eight, respectively. While Tsumiki was generally well-behaved, Megumi proved to be a bit troublesome due to his sharp wit and sarcastic nature. Satoru couldn't help but wonder if he had been similarly mischievous as a child.

The second time he enjoyed his birthday was when he went home that day.

“I’m home…?” He was about to call out the kids, but heard someone bustling in the kitchen. Kitchens clanging and the water running.

"Don't touch that, Gojo-san said we shouldn't use the stove!" Tsumiki warned.

"Well, how do we make something before he gets home then?" Megumi interjected.

"Should we just serve it like this..." Tsumiki examined the plate before her. Megumi deadpanned at his older sister, "A banana on a plate?"

“Shhh! I hear him coming!”

Satoru giggled to himself, hearing their whole conversation, he peeked in the kitchen, “woah, what did you guys do while I was gone?”

Tsumiki and Megumi froze before slowly turning around, “s-surprise!” the two said.

"Happy birthday, Gojo-san. Thanks for taking us in!" Tsumiki presented him with... a banana on a plate.

Satoru smiled, charmed by their efforts. "Aw, did you two prepare this for me?" He didn't want to hurt their feelings, and truthfully, he was genuinely touched by their gesture.

“We also have our own gifts too aside from the cake-”

“Banana.” Megumi corrected.

Tsumiki was the first to present her gift to Gojo. "I hope you like these!"

As Satoru received the gift, he couldn't help but recall the evening a few weeks ago when Tsumiki had asked him to accompany her to get origamis, claiming it was for a school project. Little did he anticipate that those origamis were intended for him. Tsumiki had crafted a jar filled with meticulously folded paper stars, each one carefully placed inside.

Megumi was next, shyly handing Gojo a birthday card. "Happy birthday," he muttered, avoiding eye contact with Satoru. Satoru couldn't help but smile, affectionately ruffling the younger boy's hair. "Oh, you're so cute. Let's see what you drew, hm?"

Opening the card, Satoru observed that Megumi's handwriting had improved. The small card read, "Happy bday Gojo." It was evident that the boy hadn't quite figured out how to spell "birthday" yet.

Satoru promptly hung Megumi's card on the fridge door and placed the jar of stars in a cabinet alongside other souvenirs for display. "Thanks for making my birthday great, guys."

The trio gathered for a photo to commemorate the moment. In the picture, Megumi frowned at the camera while Satoru and Tsumiki beamed with smiles. To this day, that photo remains tucked in Satoru's wallet, a cherished reminder of his first celebrated birthday with the kids.

–

After hearing Shoko and Megumi's stories about how they used to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday, you found yourself pondering how to surpass the efforts of those two. You bought a small cake from a local bakery shop recommended by Nanami.

“That girl was really nice, I should go visit again next time.” you muttered to yourself as you walked back home.

Satoru shouldn’t be home for another hour so you got to work. You printed pictures of him in high school, his baby pictures, pictures of him and the kids, students, pictures of you two; you transformed them into small cake decorations. Carefully pasting each one onto a wooden stick, you inserted them into the cake.

"Babe, I'm home." Satoru tossed his keys onto the table and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Today was such a long day at work," he whined.

You kissed his cheek. "Aw, is my baby tired?" you cooed, to which he nodded and began smothering you with kisses.

"Well, I hope you're not tired of blowing out some candles." You handed him the small birthday cake adorned with pictures of his face. Satoru's eyes immediately lit up. "You did this all for me?" he exclaimed in pleasant surprise.

"Well, I know it doesn't compare to what Shoko and the kids did, but..." you started to say.

Satoru immediately cut you off, his eyes filled with genuine warmth. "But it's perfect. No comparison needed. This is the best surprise, and it's all from you." He pulled you into a tight hug, expressing his gratitude and affection.

"I can't believe you went through all this trouble for me. You really know how to make a birthday special." Satoru continued, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead.

"Come on, let's have some cake before I start crying from how sweet you are," Satoru teased, leading you over to the table.

As you both enjoyed the cake, adorned with those little memories on sticks, Satoru couldn't help but comment on each photo. "Ah, high school me, can't believe you found these. And look at Megumi's grumpy face, classic!" His laughter filled the room, creating an atmosphere of joy and celebration.

As the evening unfolded, you exchanged stories, shared laughs, and basked in the warmth of the moment. It might not have been as elaborate as previous celebrations, but the personal touch made it uniquely special. Satoru couldn't stop expressing his gratitude, making you feel that all the effort was more than worth it.

"There's one more thing," you said, leaving the table briefly and returning with a bag. "It's not the best, but..."

You handed him the bag, and as Satoru peeked inside, he found a red scarf carefully knitted by you. His eyes widened, and a genuine smile spread across his face as he ran his fingers over the soft fabric.

"Did you make this?" he asked, with admiration in his voice. The warmth in his eyes showed just how much he appreciated the thoughtful gesture. "I love it, thank you." He wrapped it around his neck, a cozy addition to the perfect birthday surprise you had prepared for him.

The seventh of December. A date to remember, a date that will go down in history. This is because it was the day Gojo Satoru was born. Born into the renowned Gojo clan, he is the first in 400 years to possess both the Limitless and Six Eyes. However, that’s all they ever celebrated about. The seventh of December was the day the strongest sorcerer alive was born. Not merely Satoru's birthday, and he despised that. He loathed how his powers and name were incessantly brought up, dominating every conversation, overshadowing his personality and achievements. All his life, he hated his birthday except on three occasions.

The first occasion was when Suguru surprised him with his friends. The second was when the kids, Megumi and Tsumiki, brought a touch of innocence and joy to the day, making it about connection and family.

And now, as the day came to a close, the third occasion unfolded. You, with your thoughtful surprises and genuine affection, turned a day usually marked by the weight of power into a celebration of love and connection. Satoru found something he hadn't expected — a day to cherish, not for his abilities, but for the people who chose to celebrate him simply for being him. Satoru no longer hates his birthday, and he looks forward to his upcoming birthdays.

469 notes · View notes

jeongheart · 1 year

Text

touch

summary: 'physical touch refers to expressing and receiving affection through touch, physical closeness, and other forms of physical connection'.

w.c: 1.4k.

tags: strangers to friends to lovers (kinda?), mutual pining, fluff.

a.n: i'm soft, this was inspired by that video of jeongin bumping into jisung lol. my first innie work aaa i'm so happy that i finished it, i'm so proud of this one too.

as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes, leave your thoughts if you like! it means a lot.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched.

He strongly believes that his personal space is sacred, and he can't understand the people who require physical contact 24/7.

It's no secret to anyone that he dislikes (physical) displays of affection, not that he doesn't have them with the people he loves, he prefers to let them know that he loves them with a special gift on their birthday or by buying them something that reminds him of that person.

He especially hates hugs. He feels trapped by the other person, and despite the fact that in the 22 years of his life he repeated it a thousand times, his family and friends don't seem to get the hint.

He doesn't want to be surly, really. It's something that has been like that since he can remember.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched.

Except if that someone is you.

It's funny actually, you'd met casually, the way people met before: in real life. The first day of college was tough, everything and everyone was new and having to get used to a "grown-up" routine all of a sudden was something that took time.

He remembers the time exactly: 07:20 am. It was the first of the day, he was sitting in front of the class, he had a bad habit of being easily distracted, so he had to force himself to overcome his shame and desire to sleep to be in front of the blackboard.

The class started at 07:30, and the room was almost full. The professor arrived less than a minute ago and Jeongin was glad to be alone and in peace. His notebook lay open in front of him, the pages white and spotless.

Until you arrived, late.

You came running, it was obvious that you'd fallen asleep. Your hair was somewhat messy, probably due to the wind and the run you made through the building, your face was red (from embarrassment and exertion), but a smile was present on your face.

The professor looked at you funny and with a gesture of her hand she asked you to come in and take a seat somewhere free.

The only one was next to Jeongin.

Your eyes lit up at the sight of the empty chair, and even though you couldn't see it, Jeongin rolled his eyes as he saw you approaching the table.

With the woman summarizing her presentation, you arranged your things on the table (everything was in pastel colors, the blonde noticed) and you looked at him expectantly with that smile still on your face.

He could tell you were alone, actually, you were the only two who were. All your other classmates knew each other. So your attempt to start a conversation with him was logical, you also realized that he was alone.

"It looks like we'll be buddies" You smiled again and then told him your name while you extended your hand in an attempt to shake his, a very old gesture and not funny at all according to Jeongin.

He played dumb, but he told you his name. And then he said nothing more, watching out of the corner of his eye as you slowly lower your hand to rest it on your lap.

The weeks passed like this, you had a clear love language and unfortunately it was the one that Jeongin hated the most. You were always trying to touch him, not in a wicked or weird way, just friendly since that's how you showed affection. You were friends, but he couldn't tell you 'stop doing that' every time you reached out to touch his shoulder to get his attention.

You annoyed him every time you did that, but he couldn't deny that when you weren't getting clingy he appreciated your company. You were a comfortable presence in his life most of the time, and he liked not being alone in an unfamiliar environment where everyone greeted each other and ate together every day.

The first part of the academic year ended in the blink of an eye and the relationship between the two of you was only growing.

Jeongin didn't know when he let you touch his arm for the first time, he thinks it was in the library when you were studying for an exam.

He was nervous as he couldn't memorize anything and you, ever so nice, reached out your hand in an attempt to comfort him to rest it on Jeongin's left arm which was sprawled on top of the book he was trying to read.

Jeongin hadn't noticed that he hadn't tensed like the other times and he just kept reading and rereading the same sentences while the heat rose to your cheeks.

You didn't know what changed, but the fact that the boy who moved away every time you got at least 5 cm closer than normal had finally relaxed around you had butterflies flying in your stomach.

The months unfolded normal after that, and Jeongin would let you into his bubble of personal space more and more often.

He definitely hadn't realized how much he liked to feel your warm hands on his when he needed to calm down before a presentation or how his heart would jump in his chest when he saw you smile after you hugged him goodbye when he dropped you at your house after college.

"I like you a lot, Innie" You told him after the second exam.

Another final exam ended, and with it, the end of the year was drawing near. Jeongin was going to a vacation with his family in Busan and you definitely couldn't go weeks and weeks without seeing him, or his dimples or hearing his laugh and you would never forgive yourself if you didn't tell him everything that was on your mind every time you were together.

Jeongin looked like a statue, his mouth was opening and closing in an attempt to find the right words. His mind had short-circuited and it seemed that he had lost all ability to form a coherent sentence.

The snow was falling around the two of you, the heartless winter wrapped you from head to toe and as the minutes passed without an answer, your heart raced more and more and if Jeongin paid enough attention he could see how your eyes began to water as you overthought your sudden confession.

Maybe he didn't feel the same way, and you were making a fool of yourself. You began to prepare the speech of 'sorry, I shouldn't have said anything' to save your heart from the impending rejection and to be able to escape from that situation as quickly as possible.

Until Jeongin moved, he took two short steps until he was face to face to you. He was a head taller than you and your eyes searched his urgently, trying to decipher the answer he hadn't put into words.

The blond placed his big hands on your cheeks, reddened by the cold and now by shame, and caressed your skin with his thumbs.

You swore that if it wasn't for his soft grip on your face, you might have passed out from how fast your heart was beating, your legs felt like jelly, and the suspense felt eternal. You wanted to yell at him to answer or for him to do something, anything to finally stop your heart racing with feelings.

You opened your mouth to talk, but Jeongin closed the distance between you by placing his lips on yours.

You froze at first, arms still on either side of your body but then, as if awakened from a trance, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to lose yourself in the heat of the kiss, everything around you felt cold except for this moment, the soft feeling of his plush lips on yours and the warmth spreading from the tip of your fingertoes to every strand of hair on your head.

He moved only a few inches from you, enough to be able to whisper over your lips "I like you too".

You laughed slowly, so softly that it almost felt like a whisper, so only he could hear it "Yes, I think I realized that" And tangling your hands behind his neck you brought him closer to you to kiss him again.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched, but you were the only exception.

#stray kids fluff #yang jeongin fluff #i.n fluff #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz soft thoughts #stray kids soft thoughts #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #bri writes

1K notes · View notes

h0nkch0c0late · 7 months

Note

Can I request Jordan Li x fem!reader (established relationship) where they found out reader never really celebrated her birthday was basically overrun by her younger sister, the golden child, (like, they’d all go to places where the sister want to go, she’ll get to open reader’s presents, blow out her candle and other stuff) and none of readers parents care nor do any of the relatives. So, reader never got to properly celebrate her birthday and doesn’t like her birthdays anymore thinking no one cares for it, and so when Jordan finds out about this, they, and maybe the rest of the gang, surprise her with her like, sorta dream birthday party

Dude omg yes.

Birthday Girl

Jordan x fem! Reader

SUMMARY: Jordan goes above and beyond for your birthday party when they find out your sister always stole your moment.

WARNINGS: swearing, au where Luke doesn't off himself 🫶🫶

---------------------------------------------------------

Today was your birthday.

You've always hated that day. Once you were old enough to leave your parents, you did. Lucky that you had a chance at Godolkin.

Every year was the same. You got a few "happy birthday!" Shouts from students who knew, but other than that, you mainly stayed inside of your dorm room doing the usual routine.

When Jordan had found this out, however, they knew something had to be done.

Your sister and family may have made you hate your birthday, but Jordan was going to make you love it again.

See, your sister had always been seen as the "golden child" of the family. You assumed it was because she didn't possess any powers that could get out of control (though they had forced their eldest into that life), and because, well, she was the youngest.

She made your life hell, and always specifically your birthday.

YOUR day had become HER day.

Your parents allowed her to open your presents and blow out your candles. She got to eat the first piece of your birthday cake, and hell, she kept most of your presents (the ones that she liked).

And you were always left with nothing. Your family didn't even give a shit.

Because you were the fucked up one. You were the one who had powers, who was different than everybody else, even though it was forced upon you. And they STILL blamed you for it.

So yeah, you hated celebrating your birthday because you felt like no one cared.

But in comes Jordan, being your hero.

Whilst you were distracted by your phone in Jordan's room, they gave the signal to their group of friends to get in their places.

The group being Andre, Cate, Luke, and the newest member, Maria.

The surprise party was being held in Cate's room (due to the fact she INSISTED on it being there), it was decorated with different objects and trinkets related to your favourite obsession, fairy lights and LED lights were mixed together to create the perfect lighting.

They all hid in their places inside of Cate's room, getting ready for the big surprise.

------

"Hey, we should go and bug Cate." Jordan nudged you, trying to keep a straight face as to not ruin the surprise.

You turned your head towards them with a quirked brow, "now? Jordan I really don't wanna walk in on Cate and Luke fucking again."

He laughed lightly, "I promise that won't happen again. They changed their schedule."

You scoffed, "Jordan, it's Cate and Luke. They don't have a schedule."

Jordan just shrugs, pulling you up from her bed and dragging you towards the door, "too bad we're going anyway."

"Alright but I'm gonna keep my eyes closed just in case." You reply, shutting your eyes tight as you allow Jordan to pull you along.

Jordan rolls their eyes, "yeah, okay, you do that. I'll tell you if you can open them or not."

You give her a thumbs up with a grin as you keep your eyes shut, stumbling a little due to the fact you literally cannot see where the fuck you're going.

You feel Jordan stop and you knew you had arrived, and braced yourself for the lewd noises that would be heard from the other side of the door.

You were confused when you were met with silence, and the sound of Jordan opening the door without knocking.

"Jordan? What's goin-"

You were cut off by an eruption of voices yelling "SURPRISE!" in your direction inside of the room.

You opened your eyes to see what it was about, and your eyes widened as you looked around the room, there were a bunch of birthday balloons and banners, as well as posters and trinkets of your current obsession all over the room.

"Holy. Fucking. SHIT BALLS!" you yelled in shock, running into the room as your friends watched you.

You quickly turned to them, "None of you are gonna steal my presents, right?" You questioned, pointing your finger at them.

They all looked at each other in confusion before turning back to you and shaking their heads,

"Of course not. Why the hell would we do that?" Andre asked as if it were a dumb question.

You sighed and shrugged it off, "Never mind. Dumb question, don't mind me."

Finally, after more analysis of the room, you turned to your partner, a giant grin on your face.

Tears threatened to spill, happy tears, of course, but still tears.

"Did you plan all this?" Your voice cracking slightly.

Jordan nodded, "I knew you didn't really like your birthday anymore, but I thought that if I made it extra special-"

You cut her off by planting a kiss on her lips and hugging her tightly, "it's perfect, babe. Thank you." You replied softly.

"Is it? Because you sound like you're about to cry, and I'm really hoping you're not upset by it.." Jordan responded nervously, wrapping their arms around your waist.

You shook your head with a small laugh, "I'm about to cry because I'm happy, Jordan. No other reason."

"Oh," they let out a relieved chuckle, "Okay, yeah, that's good."

You gave her another peck on the lips, "Now let's get this party started, yeah?"

Jordan smirked, "After you, M'lady."

---------------------------------------------------------

God yall are really making me crank out a lot of Jordan content 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 I mean I don't blame you because I also love them so much but please request more characters I don't wanna go into writing burnout 🫂🫂🫂🫂

#x reader #imagine #jordan li x reader #jordan li #gen v fanfiction #gen v

450 notes · View notes

strawberrystepmom · 7 months

Text

gojo and f!reader are in a semi established relationship aka idiots in love. they are about 20 and 21 here. cw some insinuation of infidelity on reader’s part but not against gojo. wc 1.2k

divider by the ever wonderful @/cafekitsune ❤️

Almost as if he’s made of pure pixie dust, Gojo appears in your bedroom without a noise or sign of his arrival while you rest in bed, blankets pulled up around your hips.

“I wish you’d at least text me before you do that.”

You don’t react anymore, learning a few months ago he teleports in and out wordlessly simply to get a rise out of you, and he sits on the edge of your bed opposite your body with a huff.

“I don’t understand why you hate surprises so much. If a handsome man appeared in my bedroom out of thin air using his awesome power I’d be excited.”

You snort, patting the bed and inviting him to lie down even though you really shouldn’t. In fact, you really really really shouldn’t yet you open your blankets and watch him slip out of his jacket. He tosses it on the floor as carelessly as ever and he comes to your bed in a white t-shirt untucked from navy pants, long arms automatically seeking out the shape of your curves.

“Satoru, I don’t mind if you sleep here but we shouldn’t be doing that.”

He frowns, cocking his head to the side.

“What? Cuddling?”

“Yeah, cuddling or fucking or any of it. It’s not appropriate.”

Raising his brows, he sits up in your bed for a moment and contemplates what you mean.

For the last several years, the two of you have been locked in this push and pull game of who will break and admit everything first - who will let the first I love you slip in the real world and not just during sex when both of you are left with enough deniability to dart out of the corner those three little words have painted you into?

The dynamic is complex, sure, but it has worked this far and it perplexes him why you would want to change something that is working so well. Lying back, he doesn’t wrap his arms around your waist and hold you close but traces the curve of your shoulder with the soft pad of his index finger instead.

He doesn’t want to ask because he already knows why you are putting walls back up to keep him out, yet he does.

“Hiroki?”

You shouldn’t but you groan frustratedly hearing the name of your current boyfriend leave Satoru’s pretty mouth. The two of you aren’t official and have only been seeing one another for several weeks but you want to give him an honest shot to be with you. The last two men you’ve dated haven’t fared well, losing out to the man with the moonlight colored hair currently occupying your bed, but you feel Hiroki deserves better than that.

He deserves far better than what you’ll eventually do to him when you get bored and go running back to the man next to you but you keep the thoughts to yourself lest they become a self fulfilling prophecy.

“Yes. It’s inappropriate.”

Satoru chuckles and slips his finger beneath the strap of your tank top, slipping it off and tracing down your collarbone despite the way you slap at his hand.

“What’s he like?”

Heat rushes into your face, cheeks searing from the tone of his question. It’s condescending but you know he can’t help it, his attitude a side effect of having the world presented to you atop a shining silver platter. You’re not even angry with him for asking, you’re angry at him for proving that you’re struggling to find a way to describe Hiroki.

He’s a sweet man, your age with only four months separating your birthdays. He’s patient and mild and a little skittish around strangers. His favorite music is acid jazz and his favorite color is purple. He eats hayashi rice at his favorite restaurant every Wednesday night.

These are not ways you can describe the man you are seeing to your frustratingly dazzling pseudo boyfriend.

Sighing, you reach for Satoru’s hand and pry it off of you before his finger can come any closer to your throat and chin and face. You’re sure he was gearing up to pop it in your mouth like he always does. His hand creeps right back to where it was the second you drop it.

Finally, you stumble upon the word you want to use to describe Hiroki and it leaves your lips with a defeated sigh.

“He’s normal.”

Satoru laughs so loud you’re afraid it’ll wake up the entire floor of your neighbors. You shush him, burying your face in a pillow you’ve plucked from behind you.

“Normal, huh? As if that’ll keep your interest for long.”

Scoffing, you sit up and his hand slides down your chest and into your lap. He struck a nerve but he isn’t apologetic, blue eyes blinking up at you lazily from where he rests against the pillow he designated as his when you moved into this apartment two years ago.

“What are you insinuating?”

He smirks, glad you’ve once again slipped into his carefully laid traps. Your teeth are bared and your brow is furrowed, arms folded over your chest. Once again you’ve underestimated how well this man knows you.

“I’m just saying that if normal is what you wanted, you would have left after graduating instead of sticking around.”

Instead of getting involved with him, abnormal as he is.

“You’re being an ass.”

You know he’s right despite the insult, so you barely argue. This has been a cycle since the start of your twenties - swearing Satoru off completely only to let him sleep in your bed because neither of you sleep well when you’re alone until it eventually comes to a head and your feelings spill over and it’s back to square one.

“I mean, at least you always come back to where you belong.”

Shooting him a downright terrifying glance, you shift and roll onto your side so that you are no longer facing him. He rolls onto his own side and presses the front of his body against the back of yours, a familiar cradle you’re glad to be wrapped in.

When he settles, his fingers trace down your sides in wide swaths and you squirm before flipping back onto your other side to face him. You capture his face between your palms and look over each of his features, his dimples and nose and beautiful skin and those fucking eyes you want to be less suceptible to.

Then you kiss him. It’s as chaste as you ever have, or at least since the last time you decided you wanted to call him yours, and he smirks against your lips.

“That’s all you get tonight,” you start and he begins to whine and argue until you press your finger against his lips, shushing him. “Let me do this right and call Hiroki in the morning to break it off first.”

Grumbling, he acquiesces because as always, at least you’re back where you belong even if he has to wait until the morning to remind you why you were silly for leaving in the first place.

#kendall writes #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoken #this is satoken canon sorry for being a scumbag 😔

409 notes · View notes

1000roughdrafts · 3 months

Text

Just Another Day

Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Warnings: some language (like 2-3 words), light mentions of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Not betad, all mistakes are my own 😊 and bear with me, I’m a little rusty 🥰 happy love day 🥰

Valentine's Day has never really been a favorite of mine, let alone anything I'd consider more than 'just a day'. Hell, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, even birthdays are all just 'another day' for me. It's kind of difficult not to harbor ill feelings about them after constantly being let down by the people in my life, one broken promise after another.

Dean and Sam have kept every promise they've made, though. In fact, they're managing to break down my walls bit by bit from stolen candy on Halloween to a fried chicken meal with beer on Thanksgiving all while living in cheap motels chasing monsters. When I told them this morning that I just wanted to hunt as usual for the day, I couldn't help but to feel a tad disappointed that they agreed. Bit by bit, I'm breaking my own rules about not getting my hopes up on holidays.

This is our first Valentine's Day as a couple, and I've known Dean long enough to know that chocolate and flowers aren't exactly his style. But I can count on him to bring me a piece of pie "just because" or he'll clean my weapons for me after a particularly grueling hunt because he knows all I want to do is shower and get in bed.

After a long day of exorcising demons, we are on the road again. Burnin' For You by Blue Oyster Cult plays low on the radio, but the clattering of rain on the roof has my full attention. Sam loudly rifles through the papers in his lap with one hand, flashlight held in the other, hesitant to ever let himself relax. Dean's eyes flicker between the road and the rear-view mirror to periodically check on me.

"Hey, you seem off today, you okay?" Dean asks, picking up on my vacant eyes and slight frown.

I suck in a breath, inhaling the scent of the Black Ice air freshener and a hint of stale whiskey, "yeah," I say curtly, keeping my eyes on the trees swaying in the wind as we drive past, lit only by the moon above us. The wind howls against the windows of the Impala, sneaking in and covering my skin with goosebumps.

His face scrunches a bit and he nods before the tick of the blinker signals that he's turning off the highway. I feel a twinge of discomfort knowing we're only minutes away from the motel now. As much as I hate the numbness I feel in my butt and thighs, there is something meditative about being a passenger on a long drive.

We pass an abandoned gas station before I can see the dim lights of the Wandering Inn. Dean parks us by the front desk, leaving the Impala to run with a soft purr as he gets us a key to a room. Neither Sam nor I take our time getting the bags together, so by the time Dean is back out and we find a parking spot near the room, we're ready to head in.

The door whines as Dean pushes it open, immediately palming the peeling wall for a light switch. The overhead light flickers a few times before settling on a weak glow, and before I can even shut the door behind us, the smell of burnt dust and old pledge assaults my nose. I glance around the small room. The musky yellow walls seem to make it feel even smaller, somehow.

Dean turns to me with outstretched arms and a smile, asking for my bags. I dutifully and sleepily hand them over, not realizing the weight they bared until the relief of their absence waves over me. Dean nods his head towards the bathroom, "ladies first on a shower," he says softly. His boots click on the tile as he walks over to toss our bags onto the bed, plopping down next to them to remove his boots.

In a few short strides I head over to grab my bag for the bathroom, stopping in front of him to plant a kiss on his forehead. His eyes, droopy and half-closed, look up at me in a smile. He places his hands my back, thumbs rubbing circles on my skin as he pulls me in for a kiss.

"Thanks for first shower, Dean," I say, letting my hands rest on his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise and fall before he says, "yeah, well, by the looks of it, you need it more than we do tonight."

My ear to ear smile is real, but I fake a laugh before pulling away. "Whatever," I say, but I slowly lose my smile on the way to my shower. Dean's ability to pick up on even the most subtle of changes in me are a testament to how great of a hunter he is, and even greater boyfriend. How he can't pick up on how torn I'm feeling about this wretched day I've no idea. What conflicts me further is that I know it's my responsibility to share these feelings with him. Dean may have an attention to detail I haven't seen in a partner in, well, ever, but he's not a mind reader.

The tile of the bathroom is cold under my feet, so I remove my shirt to stand on it while I wait for the water to heat up. I hear the guys shuffling and moving things in the room, keeping their voices hush, but I'm too tired to give a shit. Waving a hand under the water I decide that it's the perfect temperature and remove the rest of my clothes to get in.

I don't even realize how tense I am until the water hits my shoulders, nearly forcing me to relax under it. My body's reflexes take over and I go into autopilot as I think about today and Valentine's Day is already almost over, but we did nothing… at my request. I roll my eyes at myself, brushing my teeth while the conditioner sits in my hair. The scent of fruit and mint fill the room among the steam. When I rinse my hair, I imagine I'm rinsing the day away.

The mirror is completely fogged up by the time I get out. With slightly damp skin, and a towel wrapped around my head, I struggle to get my clothes on, and it frustrates me.

I open the door and allow the steam to pour into our room, and I'm immediately hit with a surprising smell. It's almost as if someone is roasting marshmallows in our motel room. I take a small, careful step and peek just my head out, eyes zeroing in on the lit candles on the table.

My eyes skip over to Dean who sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, a single flower in one hand, and a mix-tape in the other. Beneath his feet is a trail of rose petals leading to the door of the bathroom. He keeps his eyes on me, a smile peaking through his lips as he awaits my next move.

Sam's eyes and mine meet before he offers an awkward smile and shuffles a few things around on his bed. He grabs his shower bag, and I take a few steps towards Dean to allow him to enter the bathroom. Dean and I are both silent until the door closes behind Sam.

"What is all this, Dean?" I asks, astonished. Moldy motel room, or 5 star suite, never in my life has anyone laid out rose petals for me. I feel my heart racing like it's ready to burst right out of my chest.

Dean smiles, standing to hand me the flower with a kiss on my cheek. My skin is warm where his lips just were, and he reaches to take my hand, guiding me to sit on our bed.

He notices my eyes glance down at the mix tape before jumping back up to his. "I've been working on this for a few weeks now," he says, shaking the tape in his hand before handing it to me.

My hand shakes when I grab it, and I flip it to see "To my Y/N/N, Love Dean," scribbled on the front. My cheeks grow hot again, but this time with embarrassment that I'd spent the whole day thinking about myself, when here's Dean blowing expectations right out of the water.

"It's, uh, all the songs that remind me of you," he says softly, and I notice the scent of my favorite candle as the flame burns. My head spins.

"I don't know what to say, Dean," I start, and he just smiles, caressing my hand with his calloused fingers, "I mean, thank you. This is the kindest, most loving thing anyone has ever done for me," I say, tears welling in my eyes.

It's overwhelming to think a personal could love someone so much that amidst hunting Heaven, Hell and everything in between he could find the time to make this moment so special.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't cry," he says, arms wrapping around me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"I'm not crying, Dean," I contest, but I nuzzle my face into his soft, comforting shirt, allowing my arms to wrap around his torso, and under the warmth of his jacket.

I soak in the smell of his sandalwood cologne and tighten my arms around him. Kissing his chest, I mutter another "thank you" before lifting my head to look him in the eyes. He brings his hand to either side of my face, eyes looking back and forth between mine, "you're very welcome," he says, kissing me with a tenderness that takes my breath away, and I realize that it's moments like these that I want to fill my heaven with.

~~~~

If you liked my story, I ask that you heart, comment or reblog. And/or you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

PermaTags <3 @waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover788 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @sigrunsavestheday @flamencodiva

Dean @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl

#dean x reader fluff #supernatural fan fiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader valentine's day #dean winchester x y/n #fluff #spn #supernatural dean #queued #supernatural fandom #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fic #supernatural fan fic #dean winchester #supernatural #fanfic

193 notes · View notes

rollinouttahere-writes · 9 months

Note

The Searing Pain part 2 ad Merfolk AU part 2 WAS FIRE🔥. Especially the emotions in Searing Pain, I swear I felt my heart ache when Luffy cried there.

About the request , It's more about the Merfolk AU but feel to make it with regular Strawhats pirates!

So , what if the Merfolk AU Strawhats meet Y/n who lives alone in the island and actually doesn't mind them hanging around as long as they won't bother them. Y/n don't hate them or scared of them but doesn't like them.

Happy birthday @emtynessinmyworld ! I hope you like this! Sorry if it feels rushed, but I wanted to get it done in time for your b-day!

What's the harm?

Yandere Merfolk Straw Hats x GN!Reader

2.1k words

“They’re back again,” you muttered while peering out the window.

The “they” in question was some pod of merfolk that have decided to make your island their favorite hangout. It started with them stopping here to get some fruit off of the trees near the shore. You didn’t particularly care that they were here. There was more than enough fruit to go around, so you decided to just leave them be.

However, they were not content to leave you be.

Once they realized that you weren’t going to chase them off, they became enamored with you. It makes sense, you suppose. When the usual reaction they get from humans is either a fearful or violent one, it’s understandable that they might become fond of someone who was simply indifferent to them. If they want to chill here where they won’t be harassed by humans, then you’ll let them.

You just wish they would stop trying to bother you. When you chose to make a small abandoned island your home, it wasn’t because you were dying for social interaction. Quite the opposite. All you wanted was to be left alone, and for years you were. Now? You were lucky to go more than a week without seeing those people.

Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepare for what’s to come. There were lots of things for you to do today. A storm passed through last night and took a heavy toll on your roof, so you’ll need to patch that up. Your garden probably also isn’t faring too well. Fortunately, you were able to drag the potted plants inside, but everything in the ground is probably dead. You need to do some fishing too, but you’ll wait until they leave to do that. Being that close to the water when they’re here is a hassle.

Steeling yourself, you push open the door and slip outside as quietly as possible. These efforts were all in vain, as it seems they were waiting for you.

There’s a call of your name behind you. A look over your shoulder revealed it to be who you assume is their leader, Luffy. The bull shark merman flashed you a wide, sharp toothed smile and waved frantically at you.

You had to fight the urge to go back inside, he was the worst offender out of them all. This guy genuinely did not seem to understand the concept of personal space. He also didn’t know how to stop talking, much to your chagrin. There’s also the issue of him being able to go into freshwater, something you learned about him while trying to fetch some drinking water from a river flowing through the island. Not only did he scare the hell out of you with his sudden appearance, he also launched himself out of the water to tackle you in a hug. You don’t like hugs at the best of times, but you especially don’t like them when they result in your water being spilled and getting soaking wet.

“Hey! Do you wanna come swim with us?!” Luffy shouted.

He asks that every time that they’re here, regardless of the fact that you’ve refused every single time. Apparently he wasn’t getting the hint.

“No, Luffy. I’m busy and have lots to do today, I don’t have time for that,” you answered. Not giving him a chance to ask more questions, you sped off towards your garden, praying that no one tries to follow you. You’ve had to drag Luffy back into the water on multiple occasions when he attempted to come after you and got too dried out from being out of the water. Much to your dismay, he took this as a sign of friendship and not just basic human decency.

As expected, the garden was in ruins. Your heart sank at the unfortunate sight. After removing all the debris thrown onto it by the storm, you saw that nothing had survived. Everything was ripped up and destroyed. You felt sick to your stomach knowing how dangerous it was to lose this many crops. It was early enough into the season that you could replant it and still harvest them in time before winter, but that would require you going back to the mainland for more seeds.

You hated having to go back and be around so many people, but it had to be done. Maybe you could set sail tomorrow? If the merfolk were gone by then, of course. You don’t want them following you for the entire two day journey.

Since the garden is done for, looks like you’ll be doing some foraging today. After the roof repairs. Those definitely take precedent here. Sighing, you turn and make your way back to your home. It’ll probably take most of the day to finish it based on how bad it was leaking last night. Your home was within eyesight of the shore, which meant that the merfolk were going to be trying to talk to you the whole time. How annoying.

As you get closer, you’re confused to hear what sounds like hammering. Where is that noise coming from? Picking up the pace, you hurry to the source and see that it’s coming from your house. Looking up, you see the colorful form of Franky crawling over what once was your roof and hammering on new planks of wood. Beside your home was a pile of discarded roofing tiles and wood.

All you can do is gawk at him while your brain tries to process what he’s doing. The large mantis shrimp notices your presence and stops what he’s doing to wave at you, “Oh hey! I saw that your roof was all messed up so I thought I’d fix it for you! At first I was just going to retile it, but then I saw that the rafters were damaged too, so I’m rebuilding all of it. Don’t worry, I’ll have this finished before it’s night.”

With that said, he went back to work. You didn’t know what to do or say about this. Given that your entire roof was now ripped off, you didn’t exactly want to tell him to stop. As much as you don’t want him to be doing this, it felt too late to keep him from it now. You’ll just have to let it go. Also where in the same hell did he get lumber and roofing tiles from? You doubt you’ll ever know.

Hazarding a glance to the shore, you can see the rest of them relaxing. Nami is currently laying on the shore and sunbathing with Robin reading a book next to her. Luffy is dangling from a tree hanging over the ocean trying to grab some fruit from the higher branches while Usopp and Chopper egg him on.

Oh good, he’s occupied and hasn’t noticed you. Grabbing a basket from outside your house, you run into the forested area of the island to forage. You’re hoping that if you stay out long enough that they’ll be gone by the time you get back. You’ll need to gather at least enough food to last you on your voyage to get seeds.

Lucky for you, the food on this island was plentiful. Between you being the only person on the island and the minimal animal life, there were plenty of fruits and root vegetables to choose from. You could hunt for birds too, but usually you got your protein from fish.

The foraging was going well, but the heat was starting to get to you. Today was not only hot, but also humid and you felt like you were suffocating. Sweat was pouring down your back as you pulled yourself up the tree to grab some fruit. You wanted it to be a little under ripe so that it would ripen up during your journey. Your basket was hung up on a lower branch for you to drop your findings into.

After dropping the last of the fruit you found into it, you slumped against the trunk of the tree. You wanted to do more foraging, but this heat was becoming too much for you. All of the sweating had made you dehydrated, too. If you don’t head back soon you’ll be putting yourself at risk of a heat stroke.

Nodding to yourself, you climb down and grab the fruit basket. It’s full enough that you’re content to call it a day. You can only hope that the merfolk have left by now, but at this point you don’t care. You just want to drink something.

Your house comes into view and you’re pleasantly surprised to see the roof is finished and Franky is nowhere to be seen. Despite your annoyance at him inviting himself to work on it without your permission, you have to admit that his handiwork is impeccable. The roof looks noticeably nicer than the rest of the house, and there is a large blue star painted onto the front of it.

Where he got the paint from is beyond you. Probably from wherever he pulled the lumber out of if you had to guess.

Before you could go inside to get something to drink, someone calls for you. Your head hangs and you groan. You’re in no mood to deal with any of them right now. Why must they insist on bothering you again?

Looking to where the voice came from, you see Sanji pulling himself across the sand with one hand while holding a coconut in the other. Admittedly, you’re impressed at how well he’s able to do that. As he pulls himself closer, you see that the coconut is open on the top.

“I’ve been looking for you! I made everyone some drinks and wanted to give you one too!” Sanji thrust the coconut towards you and watched expectantly.

Setting down your basket, you hesitantly eye up the drink. It looks like a mixture of various fruit juices mixed together in the coconut. Normally, you would never even consider taking anything from these people, and have turned down food from them on multiple occasions.

Right now, though? That looked like the most refreshing thing in the world and your throat was screaming for something to drink. It couldn’t hurt to accept it just this one time, right? What’s the worst that can happen?

Reaching out, you take it from Sanji’s hand, “Thank you, this looks really good.”

Sanji beams at you while you take your first sip. It’s delicious, and the one sip turns into you gulping down the rest of it in a matter of seconds. The tropical fruity drink felt like heaven going down your parched throat.

Sanji is still laying in the sand by your feet. His chin is propped up on his hands and he’s smiling at you while his long tail swishes behind him. Oh, he must be waiting to hear your opinion on it. It would be rude to ignore him after accepting the offering. “That was really good, thanks for that,” you answered simply.

“Do you want more? I made plenty! If you come with me to the shore I’ll refill it for you,” his hopeful smile almost made you cave, but no. You couldn’t give them an inch because you know they’ll take a mile if you do.

“That’s alright, I’ve got to get some things done around the house. Thanks, though,” you tried your best to let him down gently.

Instantly, his whole demeanor drooped, but he didn’t move to leave. Maybe he was hoping to make you sway if he looked at you with his kicked puppy face long enough. Guess that means you’ll have to leave first. Fine by you.

You spin on your heel to do just that, but stumble. That’s weird. All you did was turn around but you’re so dizzy that you’d think that you just spun in circles for a minute straight. Your vision started to blur as a horrifying realization dawned on you.

He drugged your drink, and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

In a last ditch effort to get away, you attempt to get into your home and lock the door. This amounts to nothing because you collapse after the first step. Your fingers dig into the sand uselessly, your arms didn’t have the strength to pull you forward. You weren’t even that far from the door, it was just barely out of reach. What a cruel joke.

Vaguely, you can hear motion behind you and feel someone pulling on your ankle. You can make out several voices, but your mind is too hazy to put any names to them. Boisterous laughter is the last thing you hear before everything fades to black.

Apparently, this was the worst thing that could happen.

328 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 8 months

Note

Hi again Bestie!

This is for the Enemies to Lovers Angsty Joel ask. I was thinking a new reader with show Canon Joel? But if that’s too much work and it works better with Lavender Joel and doc that’s fine too!!

aaa thank you so much for responding!!

OMG HI BESTIE!

Thank you so much for the ask and for being patient! I hope this fits with what you're looking for. Thank you for reading and reaching out! Love you!!!

(This ask came in from @dundienominee and they're tagged with permission HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!!!)

Loathe/Lust

You have every reason to hate Joel fucking Miller. He knows it. It doesn't stop him from coming to you for help.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Legal age gap (reader is 27 and has known Joel since she was 25, Joel is 46.) SMUT :D Canon typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.4k

Spring, 2013

At the end of the world, there were very few constants.

One, you were fucking tired of jerky.

Two, there was never a shortage of people who needed healing.

Three, you hated Joel fucking Miller.

Everything else could shift and change but those things were facts.

Jerky was a staple of every meal because, with QZ food, there was no such thing as fresh. There was often no such thing as enough, either, but fuck were you tired of jerky.

And QZ life wasn’t easy on anybody. People needed a lot of patching up here. You’d come up through FEDRA school, 17 and a junior in high school when the outbreak happened. You were tapped early for your aptitude for biology and taught the very basics for helping to keep people alive. You didn’t know much about the world before, you’d been a teenager when things went to shit, but you knew what they taught you barely qualified as medicine. Still, you did everything you could to help people. It was nice, having purpose in this shitty life.

Then there was Joel. Joel fucking Miller. Joel fucking Miller, drug smuggler. Joel fucking Miller, guy who got your brother mixed up in his stupid illegal activities. Joel fucking Miller, the man who introduced your brother to fucking Marlene. Joel fucking Miller, the person you really blamed for your idiot brother taking off across the country to help the goddamn Fireflies as though there was a single fucking thing people could do to fix this disaster, to bring down FEDRA. Without Joel fucking Miller, Nathan never would have gotten hooked on drugs to begin with, never would have been vulnerable, never would have fallen for Marlene’s bullshit.

If it wasn’t for Joel fucking Miller, you wouldn’t be here, alone.

But you were.

And you hated him for it.

And he knew that you hated him for it.

Which is why it was a hell of a shock when there was a knock on your door late one Thursday night, just before curfew, and Joel was there, grimacing and panting for breath.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” you snapped, almost slamming the door on him. He threw his hand out and caught it before you could, his thick fingers closing around the edge of it.

“Not any happier about this than you are, Brat,” he spoke through clenched teeth, using the nickname your brother always called you. The name he’d called you for 22 years before he went across the country because of Joel fucking Miller. “But I don’t exactly got another choice.”

He adjusted his leg so you could see it in the light. A knife was embedded there, right where his femoral artery would be.

“Shit,” you muttered.

“Can’t exactly go to the clinic with this,” he said. “But you’re dumb enough to take that fuckin’ doctor’s oath seriously so…”

“Calling me dumb probably isn’t the smartest move when you want me to save your goddamn life,” you glared at him.

“I ain’t wrong.”

“Fuck you,” you sighed, opening your door wide and stepping out of the way. He limped inside, going for the couch. “Don’t even think about it, asshole. Kitchen table, if I’ve got to clean your blood off my floor I’m not trying to get it out of the fucking carpet.”

He grimaced but obeyed, heading for the table and sitting down heavily in one of your mismatched wooden chairs. You went to collect what you’d need to - hopefully - keep him from fucking dying in your apartment and came back, propping his injured leg up on another chair before pulling a third one up alongside him. You put a towel down below him and took your scissors and cut his jeans, exposing his leg where the knife was sticking out.

“At least you weren’t dumb enough to pull it out,” you muttered, examining the wound. “Know how big the knife is?”

“Big,” Joel said wryly.

You glared at him.

“I meant in inches. Not that you men can judge inches worth a damn…”

“I can,” he said. “And it’s about 8 inches. Trust me, I know.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he did.

“Alright,” you said, actually meeting his gaze. His eyes were oddly gentle, a softness to them that made your heart ache a little when you looked at him too long. “I’m going to do what I can here and I have my shit set up and ready to go but if this thing shredded your femoral artery, you’re going to bleed out and die in just a few minutes and there won’t be a goddamn thing I can do about it. I’m as prepared as I can be for a heavy bleed but if you’re really fucked you’d need someone to take a blood vessel from one part of your body and use it to patch the femoral and it should go without saying that I can’t do that in my fucking kitchen. I could put a tourniquet on you and try to get you to the clinic but…”

“FEDRA would just finish me off,” he nodded. “I get it.”

You paused for a second, looking at him.

“I really will do everything I can,” you said, actually earnestly speaking to him for a change. You felt… bad for him. For Joel fucking Miller. You didn’t like the guy but you didn’t want him dead.

You pulled on gloves.

“Look, Brat, I know this is a win/win for you, alright?” He smirked a little. “Either I owe you or I’m dead and you don’t have to fuckin’ deal with me anymore. Promise I won’t haunt you if I finally got myself killed, OK?”

You nodded and tried to wrap your head around the idea that Joel fucking Miller might be dead at your kitchen table in a few minutes.

“Anything you want me to tell people if…”

“Don’t have much I’m leavin’ behind,” he said, actually serious now. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard him be serious before. He sighed. “Been fine with dyin’ for a while. About time it caught up with me. Just tell Tess and Tommy I’m sorry for fuckin’ ‘em over. Sorry to you, too, for draggin’ you into it. Don’t have anyone else.”

You nodded again. Why was Joel making you feel bad for him? Making you think of him like a person instead of some asshole now? When it’d be on you to keep his stupid ass alive?

“Right.”

You cracked your neck and loosened your body up before putting a hand on his bare thigh. His skin was warm and soft, his leg muscled and thick.

“This is going to hurt like a bitch,” you warned him. “But you need to stay completely still, otherwise something that wasn’t already fucked up might get fucked up. I’ve got to pull the blade out as straight as I can, try to get it to go the same path it went in, OK?”

“OK,” he nodded, his large hands going to the base of his thigh, like he was going to hold himself still. He looked at you again. “Meant what I said. It’s really… it’s alright if it kills me, OK? Don’t want you to feel like shit if it does. Not your fault.”

“Yeah, I’d hardly feel like shit for taking you out, Miller,” you rolled your eyes even though the idea of him dying mad your stomach turn. Maybe it was because it would be on your shoulders and you didn’t want anyone to die because of you. Even Joel fucking Miller, the man you hated more than anyone else. The thought that part of him wanted to die made your chest tight. You took a deep breath. “Here we go.”

You pulled the knife out as quickly as you could while also holding it steady - which, as it happens, wasn’t all that quick. Joel hissed in pain but, to his credit, didn’t move.

There was a fair bit of blood once the blade was freed but it wasn’t a full-blown arterial bleed. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good news, you’re not going to bleed out on my kitchen floor,” you set the knife down and grabbing gauze, putting pressure on the wound. “You missed your femoral artery. I still need to get this bleeding to slow down before I can stitch you up and you’ll need to take it easy for a bit but you’ll be fine.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he smirked a little but still. He looked relieved.

“You’re a constant disappointment so I’m used to it.”

He snorted and relaxed back into his seat, crossing his arms, watching you hold the gauze to his leg. His bare, strong leg. You swallowed.

“Hear from your brother at all?” He asked.

You looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

“Every now and then.”

“He doin’ OK?”

“Fine, from what I can tell,” you replied. “Doesn’t have anyone giving him a steady stream of fucking drugs which I’m sure helps.”

He shrugged.

“Demand is demand, Brat,” he said. “Don’t blame the supply.”

“Want me to go back in and cut your femoral artery?” You snapped. “Because I can make that happen.”

“Honey, I don’t think you could cut the femoral artery of someone who was tryin’ to kill you if you had the chance,” he smirked. “Not gonna do it to me. You should work on that.”

You just rolled your eyes and changed out the gauze.

“In just a second I’m going to get to stab you over and over with a needle,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Think I’ll see just how close together I can get these stitches. Can’t wait.”

It didn’t take long for the bleeding to slow and you did, indeed, stab Joel fucking Miller 20 times in the leg with a needle.

“There,” you said, looking over your handiwork. “Looks like you’ll live to ruin lives another day.”

“Livin’ the dream,” there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. You set the needle down and took off your gloves before getting up.

“Alright, you’re not going home tonight,” you said, squatting down so your shoulder was tucked into his underarm. “It’s after curfew, anyway, and I’m not about to let you waste all the trouble I just went through by getting picked up by fucking FEDRA. I’m moving you to the couch and going to set you up so that leg is elevated. You can go home in the morning.”

He nodded and shifted in his chair until part of his weight was on you. He was big, bigger than you really realized, his weight more substantial than you’d expected. He was so broad. You hadn’t been close to him before, had never realized it. He sat heavily on the couch and he hefted his injured leg up as you grabbed some towels to stack below his ankle.

“Comfortable?” You asked, hands on your hips.

“Think there might be a pea under one of these cushions…” You flipped him off with a roll of your eyes. He smiled. “I’m good. Thank you. For… well, all of it. Appreciate it.”

“Yeah well,” you shrugged. “I’ll work on that so next time I can finish you off.”

He smirked.

“Whatever you say, Brat.”

You woke up early but Joel was already gone.

You didn’t see him again until he showed up at your door almost a week later, not long after you got home from a shift at the clinic.

“Who’d you piss off this time?” You asked.

“Just you.”

He held out a book and you frowned and took it. It was Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

“What…”

“Saw you had some of her on your bookshelf there,” he nodded toward it. “But didn’t see that one and it’s the only one I’d fuckin’ heard of… Anyway. Thought you’d like it.”

“I do but…” you turned the book over in your hands. It was a nice copy, with a cloth cover and a ribbon bookmark. It would have cost a small fortune on the black market. You looked up at him. “Why are you giving me this?”

He shrugged.

“Saw it, thought of you. Wanted to say thanks for not killin’ me.”

“You really don’t…”

“I know.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “See you around, Brat.”

He left while you were still staring at the book.

It was three months before he was back at your door again. You’d read Pride and Prejudice twice since then, disappearing into the story, reluctantly thankful to Joel fucking Miller for the best escape you’d had from the QZ in years.

This time, it was after curfew and he was clutching his arm, soaking wet as it poured rain outside. You just sighed and wordlessly opened your door.

He came in and sat at your kitchen table while you grabbed towels and gave him one.

“Don’t have a knife lodged in there do you?” You asked, grabbing your stash of medical supplies.

“Not this time,” he dried his face and roughly pressed the towel to his hair. “But it’s a nasty cut that hasn’t stopped bleedin’, think I need stitches.”

“Can you take the shirt off?” You asked, going to the kitchen to wash your hands throughly.

“Think so,” he called after you.

You stopped in your tracks when you turned around. The shirt was off and Joel was… fucking beautiful. His chest and arms and shoulders were broad and sculpted, his stomach a little softer and inviting. You wanted to touch him, not as someone treating him but as someone experiencing him, enjoying him. You shook yourself mentally.

He was Joel fucking Miller. You were not going to get turned on by Joel fucking Miller.

“You just love giving me an excuse to stab you repeatedly don’t you?” You said, sitting in the char beside him and pulling on gloves.

“Figured you’d be bored,” he smirked. “Got a big knife if you want to try to take me out this time…”

He nodded to his belt and you looked down instinctively. He did, indeed, have a large knife strapped to his side. You rolled your eyes.

“Sit still while I do this,” you demanded.

“Yes ma’am.”

You disinfected and cleaned the wound before you started stitching it. You could hear Joel grimacing as you did and you tried to ignore just how good his damn arm looked as you worked on it.

“How’s Nathan?” He asked after a minute. You looked away from his wound to glare at him. “What?”

“He’s not here,” you snapped. “You can’t get him involved in your shit, can’t get him running drugs for you again, can’t get him putting his life on the line to feed his damn addiction, you can’t take advantage of his weakness so you can make more goddamn ration cards! So stop fucking asking!”

He was quiet and you went back to stitching.

“S’not why I ask,” he said after a moment.

“Then why do you?” You kept your eyes on your work this time.

“I’m not the one who got him hooked on that shit, you know,” he said, ignoring your question. You scoffed. “It’s true, I’m not. He was hooked well before I met the guy…”

“And how’d that happen?” You asked, harsher than you really meant to be.

“His dealer was a piece of shit,” Joel said. “Asshole named Robert. He knows who’s most vulnerable, who’s desperate, who he can overcharge and drive into debt. Nathan owed him money. A lot of fuckin’ money. He didn’t have it and Robert wasn’t too happy about that. So… I intervened.”

“Intervened?”

Joel shrugged and you glared at him, needle in your fingers.

“Sorry,” he said. “But… Robert’s an asshole but he’s smart enough to know that I’d fuck up him and his guys. So, I made him back off. But Nathan still needed the drugs so…��

“So he took up with you,” you finished for him, making the last stitch and tying it off. You cut the thread and sat back in your chair.

“Somethin’ like that,” Joel said, titling his arm to look at your work. “Wasn’t tryin’ to get him into trouble. Was tryin’ to keep him out of it. Seemed like a good kid. Didn’t deserve to get killed because some asshole was takin’ advantage.”

“And you expect me to believe you?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “But still. You deserved to know. And I do hope your brother’s doin’ OK. I know you think I’m bad news but the Fireflies ain’t exactly the Girl Scouts.”

“Well, nothing is anymore, right?” You took off the gloves and started cleaning up. “Sit tight, I’ll find you a shirt. It’s after curfew because apparently you can’t piss people off at a reasonable time. You can take the couch again.”

“See, Brat, it’s all part of my plan,” he smirked. “Come here too late for you to send me home so I can sleep on your strangely comfortable couch…”

You rolled your eyes and found a shirt your ex-boyfriend had abandoned at your place when you’d broken up. You handed it to him and he went to the couch, not needing your help this time.

“Try not to sleep on the side with the stitches,” you said. “That should go without saying but…”

“But you think I’m an idiot?” He asked, brows raised, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Something like that,” you said, turning to to go bed yourself. But you paused, doubling back. He’d settled back in on the couch, his uninjured arm behind his head. He frowned at you, questioningly. “Thanks. For the book, I mean. Hadn’t read Pride and Prejudice since before the outbreak but it was nice, reading it again. Though I think I’d rather you owe me a favor than get the book…”

“Still owe you the favor,” he said and then looked at the spot on his arm where the stitches were. “Two, now.”

You smiled a little. At Joel fucking Miller.

“Good to know.”

He was gone by morning.

The next time you were able to talk to Nathan via radio, you asked how he’d meet Joel. You asked about Robert.

“Oh yeah,” he said, as though this should have been obvious to you. “Think I owe that guy my life, honestly…”

“He was selling you drugs that could have killed you, Nathan,” you wished he were about 2,000 miles closer so you could grab him and shake him.

“It’s all relative,” he said. “He sure as shit didn’t do to me what Robert did, I’ll say that.”

Joel fucking Miller.

What if your brother was only alive because of Joel fucking Miller?

It was two months before you saw him again.

This time, it was at the clinic. He was sitting in one of the small triage areas, just a curtain around the bed and you sighed when you saw him. He smirked.

“What’d you do now?” You asked, looking down at the chart.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m here to lie about symptoms so you’ll give me antibiotics to take back to Tommy. Think an injury of his got infected outside. Don’t want anyone lookin’ to closely at it.”

“Jesus, Miller,” you sighed. “Alright, what symptoms do you supposedly have?”

He rattled them off and you nodded along before sighing again.

“Let me get you antibiotics,” you said. “It’s a miracle none of you have fucking died, you realize that.”

“And I’m sure that’s a big disappointment for you,” he smirked.

“Every goddamn day.”

You went to the medicine cupboard and unlocked it, grabbing the pills you needed before closing it again when a strong hand grabbed your shoulder and ripped you around, so fast it made your head spin. You recognized the man standing so close to you that you could smell him. He’d been in the clinic a few times over the last few weeks, always complaining of pain. Everyone turned him away for drug seeking behavior but you could tell, the last time he was here, that he was getting desperate.

“Look you little bitch,” his large hand went for your throat before you had a chance to even fully realize what was happening, your eyes going wide. He thrust you back against the cabinet with a thud, knocking your head against it so hard that you felt your brain rattle in your skull. You dropped the bottle in your hand and it clattered to the ground as you instinctively clawed at his hand. He tightened his grip. “I’ve tried being nice, I’ve tried asking. You’re going to give me what I fucking need or I’ll kill you and get it from someone else, understand?”

He squeezed tighter, your vision starting to get spotty. You couldn’t breathe and it’s not like you’d taken a deep breath before diving in the deep end of your parents’ pool. You wouldn’t last long without being able to breathe. Panic flared, acute and sharp, and your body scrambled to fight, to kick and scratch and punch to get a breath but it wasn’t working, he wasn’t letting you go. Your head was getting light and your vision was already narrowing when, suddenly the hand disappeared.

You collapsed to the ground, coughing and gasping for air and looked up to see Joel on top of the man, a knee in his chest as he brought his fist down on his face again and again and again. The man tried to get his hands up to protect his face, then tried to land a hit on Joel but neither worked. Joel was almost eerily quiet as he pummeled the man, grunting with every blow, an almost unhinged look on his face.

“Joel!” You tried to yell for him as you pushed yourself to your hands and knees. Your body felt so weak compared to just a few minutes before. You couldn’t really talk, an unfamiliar, raspy sound the only thing that left you. You tried again, anyway. “Joel!”

You managed to make it to your feet and caught Joel’s elbow as he pulled it back one more time and he stopped, turning to look at you with that mad look on his face but it vanished the second he saw you. He dropped his arms, panting for breath, his eyes running over your face and neck. You pulled him back from the man as a nurse ran over to start examining Joel’s victim.

One of your hands went to your throat, cradling it gently and feeling for damage and you pointed to the pill bottle with the other one.

“Should get out of here,” you managed, though it sounded more like a garbled mess than actual words. But he seemed to understand. He picked up the bottle and gave you a last, lingering look before leaving the clinic.

One of doctors looked you over and said you’d be fine eventually, you just needed to rest. They offered you some pain pills - the same ones Nathan had been hooked on, the same ones the man today had been willing to kill you for - and you turned them down, just trudging home and collapsing on the couch when you got there.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been attacked. It was the end of the world, after all, it had happened a few times before. But it was the first time you had the feeling that you were about to die. Even when you’d been held at knife point for ration cards you’d had the feeling that everything was going to be fine. Yeah, you’d be short on some ration cards that day but you’d be fine.

Not this time.

You tried to relax, drifting in and out of consciousness on your couch, trying not to think of the man with his hand around your throat. The way his fingers had bruised you, the way his palm had crushed into your windpipe. The ruddy tone of his skin, the desperate and angry look in his eyes, the stink of his sweat. It was all there, every time you closed your eyes and relaxed too much it was there.

You’d just drifted off again when there was a knock on your door. You groaned and forced yourself off the couch and opened the door, your hand cradling your throat. You were half expecting it to be a coworker, coming by to check in on you.

Instead, it was Joel.

“Don’t try n’talk if it’s gonna hurt your throat,” he said. You frowned a little at him. He had a canvas bag over one shoulder. “Can I come in?”

“Not going to try and finish the job right?” You asked, voice strained and scratchy.

He rolled his eyes.

“Move, Brat.”

You made a face but stepped aside, anyway. Joel went past you to your kitchen, put the bag on the counter and started rifling through your cabinets. You followed him, frowning.

“What…” your hand was still against your throat, voice raw.

“Will you go sit down?” He gave you a look over his shoulder before going back to sifting through your things. “Jesus Christ…”

You threw your hands up but obeyed, sitting at your kitchen table and watching as Joel finally found what he was looking for. A pot, apparently. He put it on your stove and turned it on before going into the bag and pulling out a jar that he emptied into the pot. He stirred it for a moment before going into your freezer and finding the ice. He put some handfuls into a towel and came to the table, pulling out a chair and moving it so it was right in front of yours. He sat down and was so close to you that his thigh slotted between yours and you just sat there, looking at him, eyes wide.

“Move your hand,” he nodded toward it and you realized you were still holding your neck. You obeyed and he gently took your chin in his large hand - his knuckles cut and bruised - adjusting your head so he could examine your throat. “Damn, Honey, he got you real good.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Hush,” he ordered. “Hold your head still.”

He released your chin and lightly trailed his callused fingers over your throat, his touch lingering over where you knew was probably damaged and bruised. He took the ice in the towel and pressed it delicately to your skin.

“See, you do know how to listen,” he said. “Even does you good every now and then.”

You scoffed but you took the ice bundle from him, your fingers brushing his as you did. He sat back a little, his eyes running over the rest of you, his leg still between yours, the other brushing the outside of your thigh.

“He get you anywhere else?” He asked eventually. You shook your head a little. Joel nodded. “Good.”

“Why are you here?” You asked, voice a little clearer than it had been the last time you spoke.

“You need to eat somethin’,” he said. “And I owed you.”

“Why don’t I get to pick the favors?” You glared at him.

“I’ll still owe ya,” he shook his head a little. “Dyin’ to know what you’d cash it in on.”

“You and me both.”

It didn’t take long for the soup he brought to be done and he poured you a bowl of it. He got you both glasses of beer, also from the bag he’d brought. Your eyes went a little wide at your first bite of soup.

“What?” He frowned.

“This is good,” you said, going back for another bite.

Joel laughed.

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m not totally useless.”

“How’s your hand?” You asked, looking at his knuckles. He flexed his fingers for a moment.

“Fine,” he shrugged. “Had worse.”

You considered him for a moment. He frowned.

“What.”

“Why’d you do it?”

His frown deepened.

“Do what?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Save me. And beat the shit out of that guy. You hate me. Why’d you do it? Was it just that you didn’t want to lose out on the person who will stitch you up in the middle of the night or…”

“Don’t hate you,” he said, taking a sip of beer.

You scoffed.

“You hate me,” you said, taking another bite of soup. The weirdly good soup. “I know you hate me.”

“How do you know I hate you.”

“Because I hate you,” you said, though you were starting to think that wasn’t true anymore.

“Yeah, noticed that,” he smirked a little.

“You call me brat…”

“Nate called you brat,” he replied. “And you are a brat. Seemed appropriate.”

“You’re never nice to me,” you said. “Well, except right now…”

“You’re never nice to me,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want to make your hatin’ me something that wasn’t fun for you, figured I should be mean back.”

“Hating you isn’t for fun you dick,” you glared at him.

“It’s not?” He looked a little amused by it all. “What’s it for then?”

“It’s for ruining my brother’s life!” You dropped the spoon into the bowl with a clatter and set the ice pack down with a little too much force. “For getting him mixed up in your fucking smuggling operation and getting him involved with the fucking Fireflies and making it so he left town and I’m just left here, alone! I’m alone, I have no one and nothing and it’s all your fucking fault!”

You weren’t entirely sure when you started crying but you were. The overwhelming, gasping, choking kind of crying that you had to fight to breathe through. You could feel it in your chest, the pressure of the tears building up behind your eyes, every pain you’d suffered the past year welling up and bursting free at once, all of it directed at Joel.

“Oh, Honey,” he leaned forward and gently took your face in his hand, drying your cheek with his thumb. His legs were on either side of yours. He delicately pulled you against him, your face going to his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you, cradling you securely against his broad body. “I’ve got you, it’s OK…”

You stayed against him like that for a long time. Longer than you wanted to admit to. But it felt nice to be there in Joel’s arms. You didn’t have anyone here, didn’t really have friends outside of work. Your ex-boyfriend had broken things off a few months back and the idea of dating again the QZ sounded hellish so you just hadn’t done it. Joel, in that moment, felt like someone you had. He was someone that made it so you weren’t totally alone.

After a while, you’d calmed a bit, your tears slowing and your breaths coming easier. You kept your face buried in Joel’s shoulder, shifting a little so your nose was pressing against his neck.

“You didn’t answer the question,” you said, voice thick and rough from the tears and your injury. “Why’d you save me?”

He sat back from you ever so slightly, his hands taking you by the shoulders and guiding you back up so you were looking him in the eye. You wiped your nose on the back of your hand.

“You might hate me but I never hated you,” he said, his eyes oddly soft and earnest. “Not once.”

“Joel,” you said quietly. His hand went from your shoulder to your cheek, his fingers threading into your hair. You were suddenly, acutely aware of how little distance there was between the two of you. It seemed like too much.

He slowly, cautiously moved closer to you, his eyes going from your own to your lips and back again but he stopped just short of kissing you. Like he was waiting for you to close the distance, asking your permission.

You gave it.

You pressed your mouth to his and it was delicate at first, your lips brushing his, feather light but electric. Then, Joel’s grip on you got stronger, his kiss growing firmer and more insistent, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting you. You let out a little moan, an ache growing between your legs.

Joel released your face and his hands traveled to your waist and he adjusted as he pulled you closer so that your legs went around him and you were suddenly in his lap. You could feel his hard length through his jeans and you realized that he hadn’t been joking about knowing the size of the knife. You groaned a little, grinding your hips down against him, and Joel moaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down and around your back, fingers spread wide over you.

“You sure about this?” He asked, peppering kisses along your jawline between words.

“Yes,” you panted, needy. “I want you…”

“Fuck, Honey,” he breathed. “No idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

His mouth reached the damaged skin of your throat and he delicately kissed each bruise on your neck, his lips warm and soft. His fingers lightly traced your bruises.

“He still alive?” He pulled back from you enough to look up at you from your position on his lap. You draped your arms over his shoulders and nodded. He frowned. “Shoulda killed him for touchin’ you…”

“Not worth it,” you said, kissing him again, harder this time. His hands moved to your front, unbuttoning your shirt.

“Yes, you are,” he said, his mouth close enough that his lips brushed yours when he spoke. “Promise you, you are.”

He nudged your arms down and slid your shirt off, pulling away from you to look down at your half naked body.

“Fuck, Honey,” he groaned, his large hands coming to your stomach and spreading warm and wide against you, moving over you, skimming over your skin with his rough fingers. He pulled you tight to him as his hands went for your bra clasp, unhooking it as he pressed his lips to your shoulder. He took it off, too, his hands finding your breasts, cradling them in his large palms, his thick thumbs brushing your nipples. “Jesus Christ, got no right lookin’ this fuckin’ good…”

He kissed over the swell of flesh before he found your nipple, sucking it into his mouth, licking the tip with his tongue, making you moan, your back arching into him. He did the same to your other breast, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your back like he couldn’t get you close enough. When he released you, he looked up at you, panting and desperate.

“Lemme take you to bed,” his hands slipped down your back to your hips, pulling you down firmly against his hard cock. “Need inside you…”

You just nodded quickly and his hands moved to your ass, holding onto you from below as he stood with you in his arms. You let out a little yelp as he did before he carried you down the hall to your bedroom.

He lay you down so gently on the bed it was almost shocking, kissing you deeply as he did. You fumbled with his shirt until it was unbuttoned and you could slide it off his broad shoulders and cast it aside. Joel moved to your jeans, unbuttoning them and hooking his fingers around them and your panties, pulling them down your body together, crawling back and kissing down your body as he did.

“Oh Honey,” he said once your pants were on the floor and he was kneeling between your thighs. He was looking down at your dripping slit. He spread your legs a little wider, opening the core of you to his gaze, before he ran a single finger over your folds. He left it against your clit, giving it the gentlest pressure. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. You achin’ for me?”

“Fuck, yes,” you were practically squirming below him, your whole body raw and needy, the heat in you burning. “Please Joel…”

“Gonna make you come first, Honey,” his finger started working in slow circles, the pressure growing. “Make sure you’re ready for me. Get this pussy so fuckin’ wet for me.”

He sank a thick finger inside you, moving his thumb to your clit, and he moaned as you whimpered at his touch.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” the hand not working your pussy went to your lower stomach, his fingers spread out wide against your skin. “Jesus Christ, you feel incredible, fuckin’ incredible and that’s just my finger, fuck…”

He worked you harder and you rocked your hips against him, your hands going to your breasts and holding them, squeezing them.

“Holy shit,” he moaned at the sight. “Fuck, need you to come Honey, need you to come for me so I can get inside you, come on baby.” He added another finger and hooked them up into the softest part of your core, making your breath catch in your throat. You started tightening around him, the heat in you growing. “There she is, can feel it, come on Honey, come all over my fingers, you can do it. Come for me, don’t make me beg for it, baby, need you too fuckin’ bad…”

You came, gasping his name when you did, your hold on your breasts relaxing as your whole body throbbed with your release.

“Fuck, there we go,” he worked you through your orgasm, his fingers never stopping. “Doin’ so good coming on these fingers Honey, getting yourself all ready for my cock. Gonna take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.”

Your body went slack and he smiled and almost devilish smile, sliding his fingers from your body and sucking them clean before he opened his pants and took them off. He climbed between your legs, crawling up your pliant form, kissing a trail up your body until his lips were on yours and you could feel his thick length brushing your dripping core.

“What if I want you to?” You panted, your hands running over his bare back.

“Want me to what?” He asked.

“Beg for it.”

He smiled a little.

“Please Honey,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Please, let me inside you. I’m past fuckin’ want you, baby, I’m past needing you. I swear not havin’ you is gonna fuckin’ kill me. I will beg you all damn night if you want, I’ll beg you all damn year if it’ll make you give yourself to me.”

You laughed softly, your fingers twisting in his hair as you pulled him closer.

“Guess you should fuck me then,” you smiled before you kissed him.

He felt as desperate and needy as he sounded, his thick head catching on your entrance before he pushed into you in one long, firm stroke. You gasped at the stretch of him, feeling every inch of his cock as he opened you to him, the tip of him finding a place inside you that you didn’t think anyone had reached before. You were so exquisitely full it was like your body had been holding space for him your whole life. It was something entirely new, so good you were almost happy the world ended just so you could find a feeling like this. You looked up at him, your eyes wide, wondering if he felt it too.

“Fuck,” he panted, holding himself within you as your body adjusted to taking him, his eyes searching yours. “Jesus Christ, I’ve never… fuck, Honey, I ain’t gonna last long, you feel too good, too goddamn good.”

“Joel,” you breathed. It was all you could think to say, every thought that wasn’t him gone from your head. Your pussy was already starting to tighten around him, just from the feel of his cock inside you. “Fuck, please…”

“You already about to come baby?” He asked as he started to move inside you, slow and heavy at first. You moaned and nodded quickly. He thrust into you, hard and firm. “Fuck, fuck, not gonna last when you come, can I come in you, need to come inside you, fuck Honey I need to come inside you.”

You just nodded again even though you weren’t on birth control and you sure as fuck didn’t know what was happening between the two of you outside of this bed and the fact that you knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing. It couldn’t be, not when he felt this good, like he’d been made to fuck you and you’d been made to take him into yourself. You wanted him to leave part of himself inside you, plant it deep so you could feel him there all warm and wet tomorrow.

With your nod, he started fucking you - really fucking you. His cock was so deep when he pushed into you you could feel the thick weight of him pressing up against your skin, like you’d be able to see him inside your body if there was enough space between the two of you to look. He pulled back almost totally, leaving just his head inside your grasping hole before fucking back into you, every stroke hard and desperate and your nails sank into his back as your hips rose up to meet his on every thrust. You never wanted him to leave your body, wanted him to make a home deep inside you so you could always be this full, this complete. His body worked your clit and your pussy got tighter and tighter around him, your head swimming with the pressure of it all, your body so needy it felt like you might burst.

“Want to come with you,” you whimpered. “Please, come for me Joel, I’m so fucking close, want you to come deep inside me, please…”

“Fuck Honey,” his thrusts stuttered and he groaned. “Gonna fill you up so good, leave this pussy so fuckin’ full of me, fill you up again and again…”

He thrust deep, so deep it almost hurt and you felt him start to pulse inside you. Your hands went to his lower back, pressing him impossibly deeper and you cried out as you came around him, your channel milking his cock, throbbing around him until there was nothing left inside him to give to you.

He collapsed on you as you went limp below him and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he panted for breath. He stayed inside you as his cock softened and you could feel him leaking out of you.

“Holy shit,” he said eventually, kissing your throat and then your chin and then your lips. He kissed you deeper as he slid out of you and lap beside you. You hesitated for a moment but he reached over and pulled you on top of him, so your head was on his chest and your legs were nestled between his own. His cock was wet against your skin and you liked it, the reminder that he’d just been inside of you. “Fuck, Honey…”

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. His hand went to your back, tracing up and down your spine.

“Still hate me?” You could hear Joel fucking Miller’s cocky smile on his voice.

“I will if you never fuck me again,” you kissed his chest.

He laughed.

“Don’t gotta worry about that. Even though you still found a way to be a brat during the best goddamn sex I’ve ever had.”

You smirked.

“Would it be the best sex you’ve ever had if I didn’t?”

“Guess not,” he said. “S’it OK if I stay the night? Think we got some shit to talk through but I ain’t got it in me to do it tonight.”

“If you insist,” you teased, pressing yourself a little tighter to him. He held you a little closer. “Night, asshole.”

You said it the way you’d say baby or love. You meant it that way, too.

He laughed a little.

“Night, Brat.”

His voice was soft, like it was when he called you honey. Something told you he meant it that way, too.

#joel miller x female reader #fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #enemies to lovers

258 notes · View notes

jishyucks · 7 months

Text

When the Stars Align — njm

‣ pairing: guard!Jaemin x princess!reader

‣ genre: fluff, royal!au, friends-to-lovers

‣ wc: 2.2k

‣ summary: ❝The stars may seem unreachable, but they have a way of surprising us sometimes❞; In which Jaemin believes that his wish on the stars is absurd

‣ warnings?: nothing basically, long paragraphs near the end

‣ an: the two songs goodbye. I wasn’t going to add songs but I’ll just keep them there,, anywaysss I wrote this really quick bc I wanted to post something so it might not be my best,, but I honestly still think it’s cute (●'◡'●) also pls ignore the whack title pic for this I might change it later,,, pls enjoy!

‣ tags: @mosviqu @flowerjun

[Songs] A Starry Night in Apollo Bay — RINI | I See the Light — Tangled

Every night that Jaemin was on duty, he always made a single wish upon both the stars that continued to twinkle and those that had long faded away.

His wish wasn’t special, nor was it ordinary—he simply wished for there to be a shift in the stars, one that only he could recognize.

It started out as a joke he made to himself, a way to alleviate the monotony of gazing at the same sky night after night. Sure, the sky was undeniably beautiful, but when he initially made the wish, he was hoping he’d see something different, like a planet with more prominence, maybe a shooting star, or perhaps even a supermoon.

However, everything changed when he met you by chance one evening. His wish took on a different significance—that maybe the stars would align themselves in such a way that your feelings would mirror his own.

If that was even possible, Jaemin scoffed at his own thought. He was nothing but a guard. A junior guard at that. Why would someone like you, the princess, consider him in that way when you had your pick of suitors at your beck and call?

The corners of Jaemin’s mouth turn downward at the thought. It wasn’t the hardest thought to swallow, but it still hurt nonetheless. These were his own emotions, ones that he shouldn’t have even developed in the first place. Yet here he was, wallowing in the fact that you might only see him as a friend.

As he let his head fall back, Jaemin gazed up at the night sky he had practically befriended. The constellations were like old friends, ones he knew almost as well as he knew himself.

It was peaceful outside of the castle. In fact, it was so peaceful that he almost forgot that there were people inside of the building celebrating the Queen’s birthday. If he listened carefully, he could hear the music being played. But other than that, it truly doesn’t seem like a party was happening at all.

With his eyes closed, Jaemin readied himself to make the same wish he had been making for the past year, clearing his mind until only the wish and thoughts of you occupied it.

I wish that—

“Are you sleeping standing up?”

Jaemin’s wish is interrupted by the sound of your voice. He turns to find you, standing in the dress you personally chose for the occasion. He remembers you going on about it a few weeks ago, stuck choosing between dark and pastels.

The word beautiful was the first thing that entered Jaemin’s mind. You looked beautiful. So beautiful that you made Jaemin’s breath hitch at the back of his throat. But he quickly rids that thought.

“Y/N,” he counters, “What are you doing out here?”

Jaemin hopes you don’t hear the way his heart is pounding against his rib cage. And if you do, he hopes you mistake it for the music playing inside.

“I wanted to get some air,” you shrug nonchalantly, “And I wanted to see you.” You find a nice clean spot on the steps leading down and onto the long driveway before sitting down. You turn to Jaemin expectantly, but when he doesn’t quite get your signal, you gesture for him to join you, “Come sit.”

“I can’t,” Jaemin frowns, “I’m on duty.”

You mirror his expression, but you add furrowed brows, “This is an order.”

Jaemin huffs. Despite it being his job to serve your family, he hates it when you use your position to coax him into situations like this. He hesitantly makes his way over to you. Sitting down just a few inches away from you. He's unsure of how to position himself, his body sitting up stiff and straight beside yours.

Turning to look at Jaemin and seeing the way he’s quite literally sitting like he has a stick shoved up his ass, you can’t help but laugh. Shuffling over, you elbow him on the side, “Hey, relax a little bit.”

He lets out another deep sigh, but he nods and allows himself to drop his shoulders. Jaemin honestly had no idea why he was being so self-conscious right now. He wasn’t usually like this. But maybe it was because you basically caught him making a wish that was about you.

Jaemin tries to shake the nerves out of his system. “It’s the Queen’s birthday, you should be inside.”

Your face contorts into an unreadable expression. You shake your head and groan, “As much as I love my mom, I hate being surrounded by all those people.”

“Those people?” Jaemin prompts.

“The wealthy, the royals, the people who hold titles they don’t deserve,” you list under your breath. Jaemin hums, “Aren’t you royalty?”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, but I’m not insane like a majority of them, and you of all people should know that.” You straighten your legs so that they’re stretched out in front of you. Jaemin does the same.

“Fair point.” Jaemin completely understands. From the conversations he’s overheard, the Queen strongly dislikes half the people she even invited, but had no choice due to their title, “But you really would rather be out here than in there?”

Jaemin knows damn well that you’re an extrovert and somebody who actually likes big celebrations like the one happening today.

You nod, “You’re out here so… yes.”

Jaemin tries to pay no mind to what you just said because he knows there’s absolutely no way that there’s any other meaning to it. Obviously you’d be bored without him… you two were each other’s best friend. Jaemin can only imagine having to attend a big party without a friend.

“What?” A stupid response, but Jaemin genuinely did not know how to respond to that. He looks over at you in anticipation of a response. He can see your eyes moving back and forth, trying to dig out a reply that would make sense.

“I would… honestly want to be wherever you are, Jaemin-ie.” You reach over to poke his shoulder, “I can really be myself with you.” You try to make it sound not as serious as it actually was. This was basically a platonic confession, something that you’ve never told him before.

Jaemin’s still in denial that you actually prefer being with him. He doesn’t see himself as anything special, so why do you seem to genuinely like his company?

“But… you belong inside with all those people,” Jaemin starts, “Not because you’re similar to them, because like you said a lot of them are snobs… but… you’re a princess, Y/N. You’re next in line to rule this place! And… ”

You know where he’s trying to get at despite his lack of words. “Who’s to say where I belong besides me… I like it out here!” you declare confidently. Then you pause and tap your heels against the pavement beneath your feet, “What if I belong out here, and with you?”

The question hangs in the air and Jaemin can’t quite piece together what you’re implying. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, “Y-you’re just saying nonsense at this point… Are you drunk?” Jaemin leans over to look you in the eye as if this would confirm his suspicions.

You laugh, pushing him away, and confess, “I’m a little tipsy. But! But I’m sober enough to know what I’m saying.”

Jaemin narrows his eyes. “Yeah, sure you are.”

And your eyes do the opposite, widening until your eyeballs are bulging out of their sockets, “I am!” You gently hit his shoulder, “I’m sober! I barely drank. Did I seem drunk when I came out?”

Pressing his lips into a taut line, Jaemin thinks of a way to prove that what you were saying was because you were intoxicated. He can’t process your last question—and with you?—what was that supposed to mean?

“Walk in a straight line for me right now.”

Knowing that Jaemin’s not going to stop until you prove that you’re sober, you groan and stand up, making your way to the edge of a stair. You prepare yourself, lining your feet one in front of the other and hiking up the skirt of your dress to make them visible to Jaemin. With ease, you walk in the straightest line you’ve ever walked, “See? I’m sober.”

Jaemin has no other choice but to believe you, “But what about—”

“Are you not listening to me?” you huff, cutting Jaemin off before he can complete his sentence. You can already anticipate what he's about to say. “I can’t stand any of them!” You make your way back to Jaemin and settle down in your previous spot. He observes your actions, waiting for you to provide more context before he can respond.

“You know… that feeling when you’ve been underwater for too long? The pressure building up in your head?”

Jaemin nods, “Yes.”

“Well…” you continue, “Being with you is like… finally being able to float back up to the surface to breathe.” Then you add, “I honestly don’t know how I’m going to survive without you, Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s heart is knocking against his ribcage. Are you saying…

“Would it be ridiculous if I said I have feelings for you?”

Jaemin’s afraid to turn and look at you. He can feel your heavy gaze resting comfortably on his cheekbone. Your eyes trace his side profile, and he can sense the tension building in the silence as you wait for his response to your impulsive confession. Your palms grow sweaty while you wait for his answer to your impulsive confession.

“Me?” Another stupid response.

“You.”

Jaemin shakes his head, clearly in disbelief. “But—”

"Jaemin," you stop him, frustration creeping into your tone, "Are you going to keep questioning my feelings instead of giving me a real reply?" Your impatience is evident, and you're looking for a genuine response from him.

Jaemin picks at his cuticles and lets himself word his reply properly. You give him time, but the more time Jaemin spends on formulating an answer, the greater your anxiety grows. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship with Jaemin. What if your impulsiveness did just that?

After what felt like forever, Jaemin finally speaks up, “On nights like these, I talk to the moon about you to pass time…” Jaemin keeps his eyes trained at his feet, his voice filled with vulnerability. “And to the stars… I’ve been… wishing on every single one of them… that maybe you’d like me back simply because it seemed so impossible.” He swallows hard before finally turning to look at you, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Do you know why I thought that?"

You shake your head.

"Y/N, you can have anyone, and I'm not even exaggerating!" He exclaims, "The number of suitors I've seen prance into the castle, all hoping to win your hand in marriage or even just one date down in the city? It's countless… And imagine my thoughts when you rejected all of them. I believed I had no chance with you because you rejected all these men that seemed to suit you perfectly…”

His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of his emotions. Jaemin continues, “When I started developing these feelings for you, I told myself to never get my hopes up because I’m just one junior guard and you’re a princess…” Jaemin sucks air through pursed lips and lets his head fall forward.

“That’s why I keep questioning your feelings, Y/N,” He concludes, “I know I shouldn’t even be doing so because you’re your own person, but it’s so hard for me to believe this is real. That your feelings are real…” With one final look at you, Jaemin finally gives you his response, “So to answer your question—yes, it’s ridiculous, but it’s ridiculous to me and not in the way you think it is.”

You nod, his answer bittersweet, “It’s like the stars you’ve been wishing on.”

Jaemin’s ears perk up, “Hmm?”

“They may seem unreachable, but they have a way of surprising us sometimes,” you snort. You let your head fall back to gaze up at the stars, the brighter ones catching your attention. "Jaemin," you continue, your voice filled with sincerity, "I really do like you. I want you to know that."

Jaemin's heart races at your words, his entire body warming with reassurance and anticipation. Acting on impulse, he gently reaches over to hold your hand. It’s not the first time he’s held your hand, but this time feels different. “I… really like you too, princess.” Your hand tightens around his, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, letting the night air engulf the both of you.

As Jaemin tilts his chin up for the second time tonight, his eyes finally catch a proper sight of the constellations he’s wished upon for who knows how long. He can name a few—the Dippers, and if he looks off to the side he can see Orion and Taurus.

All of it feels achingly familiar to Jaemin... yet tonight, there was something about the sky that set it apart from the others. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, nor if a change truly had occurred—he can just feel it.

But with your hand nestled in his, and your synchronizing heartbeats, Jaemin honestly couldn’t care less what the change was.

Because, somehow, it feels as if the heavens have shifted.

As if the stars have granted his wishes.

That you reciprocated his feelings.

And, at this moment, that's all that truly mattered to him.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Thank you for reading!! (^ᗜ^ ) Pls support my writing by liking/rbing (whatever you're most comfortable with!) Hope this made u feel something hehehehe

179 notes · View notes

just-my-type-x · 9 months

Note

Heyyy i have a random request, I read your Colby X reader called “unholy” and I was wondering if you could do one where it’s still smutty (if you’re okay with that) and basically Colby and the reader are at a party and Colby basically saved the reader from another dude trying to force himself on her and when he’s trying to soothe the reader he basically admits he’s had feeling for her for a while and things get steamy

Hate The Game

Angst, slight smut

Hello bby, sorry for the long wait, but i find it so hard to right anything. Also, another apology to the fact that, for now, i'm not writing Colby smut, but i transformed it in a way to involve ur full request.

Hope u enjoy it ♥️

The amount of people who are singing takes me by surprise as i enter the house party, rather shy. I look backwards and i laugh along with Colby, both of us noticing how everyone's already fired up by alcohol in a pretty small time frame.

We both enter the house and Jake's wide smile greets us in the small hallway, before the rest of the living room and kitchen space open up in front of us. With a bottle of champagne in his hand, he hugs us both and we wish him a happy birthday, patting him on the back and smiling.

"Have a great one, buddy", Colby smiles widely at his friend and i can tell he's reminiscing all the memories he's had with Jake throughout the years. I quickly look away when Colby catches me staring at him, but he chuckles and comes by my side so we would walk around the party together.

We get a drink and find an empty spot right around the open-space kitchen and i jump on the counter, trying to get a better view above all the people who are playing beer pong, Sam included as a competitor.

"I bet 5 bucks Sam is going to ace the game, but when there are 2 more cups to go, he'll lose", Colby laughs as i take a sip of my beer bottle. I laugh beside him and nod, agreeing with him.

"Everything works so smoothly until he's so close to winning", i agree with him and he bumps into me playfully when i jump next to him on the counter. "But, i bet you 10 bucks that it's not gonna be the case this time.", proudly and sure on himself, Colby takes a shot of the tequila he's just poured. We shake hands to seal the deal and watch the intense beer pong game, cheering every time Sam got the ping pong ball into the other's cups. The game went on for a few more minutes, ending in Colby handing me the $10. With a smirk on my face, i gladly grab the money and purse my lips. "i would've let you keep it, but i hate it when you play the I'm so sure on myself card."

He puts a hand on his chest, mimicking he's hurt. "I thought you liked confident guys."

"I do, but the way you portrait confidence has me a little bit nervous and i don't like it when i lose control over my emotions", the conversation goes from 0 to 100 pretty quick, but I've never been this honest with Colby before. The numerous shots of tequila and beer we took throughout the beer pong game make me bring out a certain honesty out of me. I've only known Sam and Colby for 8 months, meeting them when i got to film a ghost investigation with them in New York. Ever since then, whenever either of us had free time, we linked up. Now it's one of those times when i decided to take a break and enjoy a week of holiday and i chose to fly to Vegas to catch up with them.

"I'm not gonna lie, i knew there was something about you that caught my attention that very moment we met", Colby's eyes sparkle, but he almost gulps as he wasn't prepared either for the sentence that came out. "Uhm, I'm gonna go check on Sam real quick", he offers me a quick smile and i nod, my face morphed in a what the fuck expression.

I don't leave the open space living room, but instead of sitting at the counter, i sit behind it and look around the place for more familiar faces, but it looks like not even the other guests know anyone else other than the people that came with them.

"Is this seat taken?", a deep voice comes from behind me. A tall man with the features of an Instagram model, which i actually think he is, stands behind me with a whiskey bottle in his right hand, his left one touching my shoulder. The way he holds it makes me wonder if he can actually stand on his own 2 feet.

"Uhm, sure", i take the chair and move it a bir further from the counter so he could sit down directly and not fall with the chair and the bottle, causing a total mess. Call me practical. I study his face closer as he fights his own balance to sit down, but he keeps pushing the chair with one leg. He's now a lot further than at the beginning and i try my hardest not to roll my eyes, laugh in his face and leave to find Sam, because Colby looks like he lost himself. He has red cheeks and his eyes look heavy, like he's on the verge of falling asleep.

"I'm Ryan", he extends the Jack bottle towards me, only to realise he can't shake hands with the bottle. I bite my lip to hold my laughter.

"I'm-"

"Too beautiful to be alone at a party", Ryan eyes me up and down and i cross my legs, feeling weird because of his unwelcomed stare.

"Well, it's not much of a party anymore, everything toned down after the beer pong", i let out a soft laugh

"We should have our own game", his words make me raise a brow, giving him a sign to provide me more information. "But not something lame like beer pong", he looks somewhere in the corner of the room, basically zoning out as the alcohol keeps ruining his neurons for the night.

"What game?", i cross my arms at my chest, already out of patience with this stranger that definitely doesn't deserve the platform he has, in case he has one. His smirk and the fact that he fights to get closer to me are the only signs i needed to realise that i shouldn't had asked.

"You see, it's me, you, naked and whoever takes more shots off that person's body wins.", he leans in closer and i lean further, but because of the corner cut of the counter, i don't have anywhere else to move. I push him back in his place, but he grabs my hand in his." And if we're not naked, it doesn't work, you know? Cause the glass wouldn't stay in place", he places a kiss kn my hand and i snap it away from him with disgust written all over my face.

"You should go take a shower, an Advil and never leave your room out of respect for yourself. You're making such a fool of yourself, I'm glad nobody's paying attention to you.", i snap and i get up from my chair, only for him to do the same and trap me between him and the counter.

"Where are you going? We didn't even start the game", Ryan's fingers run up my exposed arms and i try pushing him, but this time he doesn't move at all. Instead, he leans in more towards me. He tries to kiss me and i move my head, closing my eyes. I feel a gust of wind and then i hear, a whine. I open my eyes and i see Ryan on the floor, with Colby almost hovering over him.

"Get 10 meters close to her next time and you'll be flying out the window. Knock some sense into yourself, Ryan. Look how pathetic you are. You're hitting on my girlfriend now, tomorrow you'll be hitting on your mate's. You'll get your eyes black before you know it. Be happy i didn't touch your pretty face, otherwise you wouldn't be making bucks on Instagram.", Colby looks down at Ryan who just whines because the room is spinning and he can't grab a hold on himself to get up. We scoff at him at the same time.

"She didn't mention she has a boyfriend"

"She shouldn't. If she doesn't want you, you just let go", Colby grabs my hand and guides me outside the house, Sam following behind. I get inside Colby's Corolla and Sam gets behind the wheel of his car as well, both cars leaving towards their house to spend some time together.

"Thank you for that. I would've done the same to him, i just needed to push him one more time", i fake my confidence as i look out the window, my fingers trembling still

"Didn't you say something about confidence earlier?", Colby asks and we both laugh.

"Shut up", i pinch his bicep.

"You're welcome, I'm glad i could be there to help you", i smile at him one more time before silence takes over the car. We get to their house in less than 10 minutes, the silence being actually bearable and very needed after such a busy evening. "Don't go out yet", Colby stops me before i take one leg outside the car. "I need to talk to you"

"Oh no, am i getting grounded?", i laugh, hoping to get rid of some of the tension building inside. I close the car door and shift in my seat to look at him. He sighs and opens and closes his mouth, unable to come up with words.

"I was selfish tonight. I didn't want to rescue you, i didn't know he was actually forcing himself on you. I got there and snatched him away from you because i thought you were kissing or something", Colby looks away from me and shakes his head. "It was only after that, when i saw your face, that it was something else. And oh man how it got my blood boiling", he looks back at me and half a smirk lights up his face. I give him a small smile.

"I never thought a guy's jealousy would save me one day from a crappy interaction with a dickhead", we both laugh and he cups my cheek, caressing it with his thumb. "What did you call me back there?", he blushes at my question

"My girlfriend?"

"Oooh, that sounds good. Maybe we should rehearse-", he cuts me off by placing his lips on mine, the softness making me push my face closer to his to maks sure they're actually touching. A smile forms on his lips at my move and he pushes back just the way i did. His teeth find my bottom lip and i grab him by the collar as he slips his tongue in my mouth. He pulls me on his lap, our kiss deepening and making my head spin at the taste of him. We both gasp for air, looking in each other's eyes before closing the gap once again. I hold him by the neck and i place quick kisses on his lips, cheek and down his neck, his hand grabbing my ass. A surprised moan escapes my lips and his groan lets me know he liked my reaction. "That was amazing", i barely get the words out, feeling dizzy. Colby's hands rest on my hips and his eyes stare back into mine after he's done checking me out.

"You are amazing. Gosh you're beautiful", he leans in again and i take control of the kiss, biting his lip and running my tongue on top of his.

He lifts me off him to adjust himself better in the car seat, but because of the tight space, my ass presses on the honk, making both of us jump and curse under our breaths.

"Fuck, that's a mood killer", i say as i struggle to get back to my seat

"We have all the time in the world", he smiles widely at me and i nod with the same smile, his statement making me happy from many points of view.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #sam and colby

202 notes · View notes

samiswifey · 7 months

Text

Just Talk To Each Other

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Warning: none

Summary: since the last ghostface attack Sam continued her therapy and met you there. As the weeks passed by you guys grew close and feeling definitely grew between you guys. However neither of you were ready to say anything in fear of losing the other.

It was six in the morning and you and Sam were both up early eating breakfast and making light conversation. Neither of you couldn't sleep for some reason, so you both decided to wake up make breakfast and just talk.

The conversation wasn't deep or super meaningful but it was calming and nice to just be around each other. You both have been through pretty similar things and it was comforting to be around somebody who understands what you've been through. Although neither you nor Sam would ever admit it really you both like that you got each other without having to say anything. It was nice.

"Your birthday is Saturday. Have any plans on what you would like to do?" Sam asked.

You shook your head as you frowned a little. "My birthday has never been celebrated. My mom was always too high or drunk to remember and my father hated my birthday because it reminds him of the day his life was ruined and refused to even celebrate it." You told her. "So I never celebrate my birthday. It comes and goes without much of a thought from me."

That made Sam extremely sad to hear and she couldn't help but feel bad for you. "If you could have your dream birthday celebration what would it be?" She asked. You thought for a moment before answering. "Dinner with friends at my favorite restaurant, ice cream at that new shop that opened up and then watching my favorite movie." You said. "I know it's not much or huge but it's what I've always wanted. A day focused on me, doing what I want."

Sam immediately kept that in her mind because she was going to make your birthday the best day ever! She was going to hopefully change it so that you now look forward to it every year. She's going to change your life.

"Don't forget I have therapy today. So I'll be back later than usual." You said.

Sam nodded but knotted her eyebrows together. "Why would I forget that?" She asked. You chuckled a little. "Because you have a million things on your plate and you tend to forget things. Also I know how you freak out when I'm not home on time." You said.

Sam wouldn't admit that you were about that but you were. However nobody can really blame her considering everything she's been through the last two years. It was understandable that she would be worried if you're not home on time.

"So how are things going with the sisters? Any attacks recently?" Beverly asked.

You frowned at her obvious dig at Sam's killer bloodline. "Sam wouldn't hurt me or anyone. Those rumors aren't true." You snapped. Beverly laughed as she narrowed her eyes at you. "Y/N I just don't get how you can trust someone like Sam who's father was a killer. If I was you I'd keep my guard up around psycho girl." She said.

You were growing increasingly angry at the girl. "Sam isn't psycho and she wouldn't hurt me. In fact she's the only person in this city that I know for a fact I can trust." You said strongly. Beverly laughed at that and quickly turned to face you.

"Y/N don't you find it strange how everyone who's been around her always winds up dead. Everywhere she goes ghostface comes back decides to going on a killing spree. Amber, Ritchie and his family all dead after they met Samantha. Anika dead after she met Sam and her sister, along with kids she used to babysit all got seriously injured because of her!" She fired. "You are next if you continue being around the daughter of a killer."

The anger in your eyes grew but immediately disappeared when you looked passed Beverly and noticed Sam standing there. "Sam."

Sam was tense as she held a paper bag in her hand and glanced between you and Beverly. "I just wanted to drop off your lunch since you forget it this morning." She spoke softly. You slowly approached her and took her hand. "Thank you Sammy. You're amazing." You said honestly. Sam relaxed when you said that and smiled a little. "We'll talk later." She said. You nodded at that. "Ok."

After Sam left you unloaded on Beverly in a very quiet but sturn way and told her to watch her mouth when it comes to Sam. That she didn't know the girl or what happened and she can't talk about things that she doesn't even know the truth about. She knows Reddit forms and the rumors, she doesn't know the truth like you do so she in less words should shut up.

Leaving the sandwich shop Sam immediately put her hands in her pockets. She was taking what Beverly said to heart right now because they girl wasn't wrong. People who come in contact with her do get hurt, they do get killed and it haunts her. She knows her father being ghostface ruins everyone's first impression of her. People don't trust her because they think she'll be just like her father, when that's never been the case. She's nothing like him and she really wished people would understand that.

Sitting alone Sam couldn't help but think about Beverly's words. They haven't left her head. However she's not trying that hard to not think of them. Everything said was true and she knew that but she tried not to believe it because she knew herself. At least she thinks she does.

"Sam what are you doing here?" Tara asked when she saw her sister.

Sam shrugged, with her hands still in her pockets. "I, uh, wanted to see you. See how your day has been." She said quickly. Tara knew it was more but didn't push her sister to tell her, so she just let it go for now. "Things are fine. I have a pretty big project due next week so I'll be spending the night at Mindy's so we can work together." She said. Sam nodded as her eyes looked all over. "Uh before that do you think you could help me?"

Tara was shaking her head as she watched Sam try (and fail) at making a cake. She didn't understand how Sam could be such a great cook but completely failed when it comes to baking. It really doesn't make any sense.

"Sam, I love you, but buy a cake!" Tara says. "You can order it today and have it ready by Saturday."

Sam pouted but agreed because that was a much easier idea then her trying to do this. "I guess you're right." She mumbles. Tara looks at her and stepped closer. "You never bake. After the cake you made for my birthday you swore off baking." She said. "So what made you change your mind now?"

Sam played with her fingers while completely avoiding eye contact with her younger sister. "I wanted to do something nice for Y/N's birthday. I wanted her to know that she's special to me." She said. "Do something for her."

Tara knew what her sister was saying without saying it. She knew because she was the same way with Amber, but unlike you, Amber didn't appreciate it.

"I haven't known Y/N long but I do think that whatever you do she'll love." She says.

Sam sighs as she continued playing with her fingers. "I know, but she told me what she wants. She told me how she wants a day about her and doing things she likes. So I'm trying to do that for her." She said. "I just want her to know that she's not ignored."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saturday came fast then expected and you found yourself wide awake in your room just wondering what today was going to bring you. Your birthday usually never felt any different from any other day of the year, but today it did. You could feel it in your heart that today was going to be different.

"Y/N are you up? I have something for you?" Sam said through the door.

You sat up and held a pillow close to you to protect yourself, for some reason. "Yeah I'm up." You called out. The door opened slowly and Sam came in holding a stack of pancakes in her hand. "First, happy birthday! And two, I've made pancakes because I know they're your favorite." She said softly. "I hope you like it."

You smiled as you took the plate from her. "Sammy this is great. Thank you so much." You said. Sam stood off to the side as she fiddled with her nails. "So what did you want to do? What are your plans?" She asked.

You shrugged as you cut up the pancakes. "I was thinking of getting take out and watching this movie I found. Nothing big." You said. Sam nodded as she looks at you. "Any thing else?" She questions. You felt confused by her question. "What else would we do?" You asked. "I mean, yes it's my birthday, but it's still just another day. Nothing special," you added.

Sam sits down at the edge of the bed. "Well, what have you been wanting to do that you haven't done?" She asked. You thought about it for a while because there was a lot you haven't done. "I would like to go to the museum. I never have been to one because my parents wouldn't let me and I have always wanted to go." Yo said. Sam smiles "done."

Standing at the entrance of the museum you couldn't believe that you were here. You thought it was all talk until you and crew actually arrived at the museum. You wanted to pay but they wouldn't let you. In fact Tara took your card and kept it on her so you couldn't pay for anything. Today was about you and they were all treating you to everything today.

Walking inside the group split up. They all went different directions, leaving you and Sam alone together. You smiled at her and took her hand as you led her towards the art section of the museum. Since you were an art major in college you loved learning about art. It was something you enjoyed doing in your free time.

As you two looked at the art on the walls you talked to Sam about everything you had learned about certain pictures. You told her what you remembered and she lit up as you explained things to her. It made your heart go crazy over the fact that she was obviously enjoying what you were telling her. People usually didn't care what you said, so having Sam actually care made you really happy.

Walking around slowly you and Sam held hands as you looked at everything. You guys made conversation about what you saw. You liked listening to Sam talk and it made you really happy that she was enjoying something that you liked. Her joy wasn't fake or forced and that was another positive about her. She was great.

Spending most of the day at the museum was an absolute dream come true for you! It was everything you imagined and more. Even though it was a very last minute plan Sam made every moment perfect. It was great.

Leaving the museum you and Sam were still holding hands as the group walked back to the car. Today has been great and you've only done two things. It was heartwarming that Sam would do this for you and you couldn't help but think about what you'd do to make it up to her because she really deserves this.

"Sam don't forget the cake!" Mindy blurted out, but quickly covered her mouth when everyone looked at her with harsh glares.

You looked at everyone. "What cake?" You asked. Sam was glaring at Mindy through the rearview mirror before looking at you. "I had a cake made three days ago for your birthday. It was supposed to be a surprise." She said. You smiled at her and took her hand. "I really appreciate that but I would have taken a box cake." You said.

"Oh Sam can't back. That's why she ordered one." Tara said easily, which made everyone laugh.

Sam rolls her eyes but smiled at you. "So would you mind picking up the cake first before we get food?" She asked. You shook your head. "Absolutely not."

Arriving at the cake shop Sam quickly gave the name of the order and waited with you as they went to go get the order. You looked at her. "Thank you for doing this. I really, really appreciate it." You said kindly. Sam smiled at you. "Don't mention it." She says. Things were quiet as you both locked eyes together, and it slowly felt like gravity was pulling you guys together. Neither of you stopped until you met in the middle and shared a kiss. It was quick and you both pulled away before things could go forward. Nothing was said as you both stood in silence together.

With the cake in hand you and Sam left in awkward silence as you got back in the car. You still sat next to her but neither of you said anything as she drove back home. You could really cut the tension with a knife but you both didn't know what to do. How do you talk about this? What do you say?

"Can we eat cake first before eating dinner?" Tara asked.

"Yeah I really want cake right now." Mindy added.

Sam speared you a quick glance before looking at the ground. "Only if it's ok with Y/N. It is her birthday and her cake." She said. Both Tara and Mindy looked at you, begging you to eat cake first. You sighed but smiled a little. "Go ahead. Have cake." You said easily. They both thanked you before running off to cut the cake.

After the cake had been cut and the food had been served the group gathered around the tv to watch the movie that you rented. It was a small indie film that had just been released to streaming and you were excited to watch. However things with Sam were still tense and you sat wondering if she was mad at you.

As the movie went on you just couldn't focus. Your mind was else where, wondering if Sam hated you. She has really talked much since the cake shpo and you were worried that she now hated you because of what happened. She must hate you for the kiss in the shop. Feeling overwhelmed you quickly excused yourself and left. You ran to the bathroom and locked yourself inside. You had to think.

"Ok what's going on?" Chad asked.

"Yeah you and Y/N have been acting weird since the cake shop." Tara pointed out. "So spill Sam."

Sam avoided eye contact with everyone as the played with her hands. "Uh... Well... We kissed. It was quick, very quick but we kissed." She said. They all looked at her and held back the burst of excitement they wanted to yell because they could tell that Sam was sad. "Then what's wrong?" Mindy asked. Sam frowned "I... Don't know. We didn't talk but things got so tense between us and I don't know what to do." She says. Chad, Tara and Mindy looked at her. "Talk to her Sam!"

Sitting alone you were trying to think of a way to talk to Sam and move past this. You hated the tension and you wanted to go back to how you were. However before you could think there was a soft tap on the door.

"Y/N can we talk?"

Slowly opening the door you were face with brown eyes staring right at you. "What did you want to talk about?" You asked softly. Sam closed her eyes for a second before opening them. It was taking all her strength to say what she was about to say.

"I like you Y/N. I've liked you for a while now but I never knew how to tell you. I'm not good with talking about my feelings, so sometimes I'll just react on them. I did that tonight because I couldn't hold back anymore. I just really-"

You cut her off by kissing her again. This time it was longer and filled with more passion as you poured everything you felt for her into that kiss. Since the moment you met Sam you liked her. She was beautiful, strong and had a great sense of humor. When you were alone you guys grew close. She knew things about you that nobody else did. You liked Sam.

Pulling away you smiled at her. "I like you to Sam. I always have." You said. Sam smiled and hugged you. "I'm really glad to hear that." She says. You laughed as you pulled away and smiled at her. Today has been one of the most amazing days ever and it's all thanks to Sam Carpenter.

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin

312 notes · View notes